This is a sequel to my story Changing a Mind by request (demand) from a friend. Well, actually, she's a main character and hated the ending of that story, so I was forced to begin this one. Oh, darn. :)
Chapter 1: The Substitute
Falling.
It was absolute darkness. I couldn't see a thing, but I could feel my stomach flip as I fell. The wind whistled past my ears as I dropped like a stone.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the free fall. I had finally done it. The elevator door, which I had tried countless times before to open, was finally conquered. It had a plaque reading: 1962. And I had finally gotten in the elevator shaft.
Unfortunately, the elevator car was not there waiting for me. I didn't really expect it to be. I knew I had to go down anyways, so I had just stepped off the ledge.
And then I began to fall. I should have been scared, but I knew this is where I wanted to go, where I needed to be. I had to find him and this was the only way I could.
Too late, logic kicked in, and I realized that at this speed, I would be flattened like a pancake once I reached the bottom. I muttered to myself, but soon relaxed again. There was nothing I could do now.
And still I fell.
Something was licking my arm. I opened my eyes and looked around. It was my dog, of course, come to wake me up to feed her. What I didn't understand was how I was at her level. She's a short little dog, and my bed was slightly out of her reach.
I tried to sit up, but failed. I wasn't exactly on my bed, but hanging off the side, somehow being held up by the tangle of blankets and sheets wrapped around me.
As I began to struggle against them, my alarm went off, playing a song I knew well. John Lennon began to sing Twist and Shout through the radio's speakers. I paused in my struggle, letting the song and accompanying bittersweet emotion wash over me. The Beatles had, by some fluke, come to the present time from their time in 1962 and had ended up staying in my house without my parents knowing. At the time, I was in denial that the Beatles were an amazing band, but luckily, my friend was more than willing to help convince me otherwise. Between her and the Beatles, my mind was changed. Then, just when I had begun to really enjoy their presence, they left. They left me and EC alone in bitter sadness. We had only recently begun to move on and accept that we still had a life to live.
With a thump, I fell on the floor in my bundle of blankets, nearly landing on Shelby, my dog.
"Ugh," I groaned. I untangled myself from the blankets and got up to turn my alarm off. It was 6:30 am, way too early for me to be up, but I didn't have much of a choice. School was waiting, and I was in no mood to get yelled at for skipping class.
Shelby let out a whine.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll feed ye, give me a minute," I grumbled, grabbing a pair of jeans from my closet and putting them on. I pulled a t-shirt at random off its hanger and pulled it over my head. Then, I walked out of my room and poured food in Shelby's dish. She scarfed it down as if she had been starving for weeks.
I stumbled up the stairs, my feet still heavy from sleep.
"Good morning," my mom said as I walked into the kitchen.
"Mornin'," I mumbled, opening the cupboard. I grabbed the first box of cereal I saw and poured myself a bowl of Banana Nut Cheerios.
"Sleep well?" my mom asked, leaning against the counter with her cup of coffee.
"Mhm," I mumbled as I ate my cereal, not really tasting it. I was remembering my dream. Or perhaps it was a nightmare. I'd been having a lot of them in the past two months. They started just after the Beatles left at the end of July and they all had that ridiculous 1962 elevator. Until last night, I had never been able to get into the elevator.
"All ready for school?" my mom questioned, trying hard to get me to converse with her. She'd been doing that ever since I got out of the hospital after my concussion.
"Yup," I replied. I really wasn't a talkative person; I'd rather live in my thoughts.
"Well," she said, putting her coffee mug in the sink, "I guess I'll see you after school. After your cross country practice, I mean."
"Mkay," I mumbled.
She gave me a sad look, then grabbed her purse and called for my brother, who was six. They went out the door. I finished my cereal and put the bowl in the sink, still reliving the dream. I wandered around the house for a while with no real purpose in mind.
When I checked my watch, I snapped out of my thoughts and ran to my room. I was late.
"Shit," I grumbled, shoving folders and notebooks in my backpack. I zipped it up and threw on some tennis shoes. As I raced past the bathroom, I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was sticking out wildly.
"I don't have time for this!" I grumbled, then grabbed a ponytail and a sports headband out of the bathroom. I put my hair into a quick ponytail as I raced up the stairs. I grabbed my iPod off the counter, then raced out the door and onto my bike. Although I was 16, old enough for a driver's license, I had no interest in cars or driving. Except at times like this when driving might actually get me to school on time.
I sped down the road, my iPod blasting music in my ears. I pedaled as fast as I could, grateful that the school was only a mile and a half away from my house. As I was biking furiously, the song changed to the Beatles. It was Golden Slumbers. I fought back my tears, determined not to walk into school crying. That song always got to me. I supposed it always would.
After a while, the school came into view. I checked my watch again and found that I had seven minutes before I had to be in class. It was possible I'd make it.
I did end up making it on time, but just barely. The bell rang as soon as I stepped into the classroom. I quickly took a seat, setting my math book and notebook on the desk.
"Good morning, class!" the teacher, Mr. Boulder exclaimed, looking far too awake and excited.
There was a mumbled "good morning" from half of the class.
"So, this morning, as I left for work, I read a license plate that said: PIE 314. Then, I got that song stuck in my head, you know the pi song?" Mr. Boulder started off with his usual off-topic story time, "No? Well, I'll have to find it and show it to you guys before we do anything else!"
He hooked his laptop up to a projector and began turning it on. I sighed and rested my head on my arms. I hated math, but I'd rather he just give us our homework right away and shut up. Knowing Mr. Boulder, we would get our assignment as the bell rang to get out of class. I closed my eyes and tuned the class out, knowing I wouldn't miss much.
This time, I was in a box. No, not a box, it was the elevator car! I had finally gotten into it! But it wasn't moving down to where I knew I had to go. I traced my hand along the buttons to the side of the door. They were all random numbers, and as I touched them, they voiced what number they were.
"Maybe…" I mumbled to myself, pushing four buttons: 1, 9, 6, and 2. The elevator lurched downwards, then went at a steady pace down.
"Yes, I did it!" I said excitedly to myself. I would be able to see him again! I could barely keep myself still as the elevator slowly lowered. I heard the murmurings of people, assumedly through the walls of the elevator as it went past the levels.
Suddenly, it stopped. The door opened and I stepped out slowly. There was no light. A hush fell upon the room.
"H-hello?" I called out. There was no answer. I turned back to the elevator, but there was nothing there anymore. Just more darkness. I took a step forward, flailing my arms in front of me to figure out if there was anything I'd run into. My arms hit a wall, and I leaned against it gratefully.
WHAP!
I jumped up…
…to see Mr. Boulder standing in front of my desk with a grin on his face. His ruler was lying on my desk with his hand still gripping one end. The rest of the class was giggling.
"Have a nice nap?" he asked.
"Uh, not really," I replied, uncertain of whether I was in trouble or not. Before I could find out, the bell rang.
"Make sure to do page 105, every even problem!" Mr. Boulder called out to the class as they all jumped out of their seats. I followed the crowd, on my way to English class.
"Courtney!" I heard someone call my name, but it didn't register that they might be calling for me. There were so many Courtney's in this school that I didn't answer to random people yelling it in the hallways anymore. "Courtney! Hey, MOONCOW!"
I spun around to see EC speed-walking towards me.
"Oh, hey," I said, walking in her direction. We were going to the same class, so I could walk with her.
"Courtney," she said, a worried look on her face, "We have a substitute teacher for English today."
We started up the stairs as I said, "Oh, we do? Well, hope she's nice."
"No, that doesn't matter," she said, "What matters is what she's making us do today. Courtney, she's a hypnotist."
I laughed drily, the only laugh I had been able to manage these days. "A hypnotist? No problem."
EC grabbed my shoulder with her free hand. "It is a problem. Don't volunteer, ok? If we volunteer, people will know who we were with this summer, and bad things will happen."
Despite how vague she was and how little faith I had in hypnotists, I felt chills down my back. "Alright, no volunteering, got it."
EC let go of my shoulder and gave me a relieved smile. We continued to class, taking our usual seats in the back of the room.
A minute or two later, the bell rang and a woman with an intense stare, even under her heavy glasses, strolled up to the front of the room.
"Good morning, juniors," she greeted us, "Today, we're taking a break from English to observe hypnotism at its finest!"
There were a couple of snickers from various people in the class. I was one of them. I wasn't a big believer in hypnotism. Time travel, well, that was a different story.
"Oh, so you don't think it's possible?" the substitute teacher asked smugly, "Well, I'll have to prove it to you then, won't I?"
A couple eager hands went up, volunteering to be hypnotized. One boy even began a round of "pick me, pick me, pick me!"
The teacher surveyed the room, oblivious to the eager volunteers. "Ah," she said, eyes narrowing on me, "I'll use this doubtful person. Come on up, it won't hurt."
EC nudged me and gave me a fearful look.
"No, that's ok. I'd rather not," I said, staying in my seat.
The teacher's intense gaze turned stern as she gestured for me to come up and be her volunteer.
I tried again. "No, really, I don't want to. But I think Logan does," I suggested, waving my hand towards the excited boy who was still muttering excitedly that she should pick him.
"No, young lady, you must participate in class," she said, a steel edge entering her voice.
I glared back at her, putting a defiant look on my face. She glared right back, and I realized she wasn't going to let me off the hook. I sighed and rolled my eyes, getting up out of my seat. EC's eyes widened and she shook her head slightly at me.
"Relax, I won't say anything," I muttered in her direction. I walked up to the front of the class where this mysterious substitute teacher waited.
"Thank you," she said arrogantly. Then she gestured towards a chair in the front of the class. I plopped down into it and crossed my arms.
"Let's get this over with," I muttered crossly. She kneeled in front of my chair.
"Listen carefully," she whispered so the rest of the class wouldn't hear. Her voice had become soft and cooing. "I want you to clear your mind. Or better yet, think of your favorite place to be." An image of EC, the Beatles and I under the bridge popped into my mind, but I quickly pushed it aside, not willing to give in. "Alright, now smell the smells of that place. Close your eyes and imagine it."
I couldn't help it; I closed my eyes.
"Feel that place. Listen to the sounds there. Place yourself amidst that place. Good, now look around at your surroundings. You see them, right?"
Before I could stop myself, I muttered, "Yes." I was imagining the scene under the bridge. I tried to push it away, tried to be defiant, but it wouldn't budge.
"Good, good. Now, breathe in the air." I took a breath against my will. "And tell me what it smells like."
"River water," I mumbled. I had lost control completely. "And him. He smells good."
"Him? Who is he? What's his name?"
"John," I sighed happily.
"Ok, tell me more. What do you see?"
"Paul. He's with EC," I slurred. My mind had turned to putty, leaving this woman completely in control. "And George. And Ringo. And John's with me."
"Very nice," she cooed, "Now, will you tell me more about them? What does this John look like?"
I smiled. "He's perfect. His eyes are brown, and so is his hair. He's my height."
"I see. Does he have a hooked nose?" She sounded intrigued now.
"Yes," I replied happily, "He has the best looking hooked nose I've ever seen."
"Do you know what his last name is, this John?" she asked.
"Yeah. Lennon."
Another voice entered my mind, this one was screaming, but it sounded faint to my ears. I was looking at John in my mind, grinning at him as he smiled back.
There was suddenly a sharp pain in my shoulder, as if someone was pulling on my arm as hard as they could. I felt myself falling and saw the elevator again. Then, I felt my body hit the floor.
"Ow," I said, opening my eyes. EC was pulling my arm angrily, and I had no idea why. "What are you bl-" I reminded myself I was a Minnesotan and that Minnesotans didn't use British words, "What are you doing?"
"You bloody retard!" EC hissed, "You said you wouldn't say anything! We have to go, they're calling the psychiatrist already!"
I got up and held her still, aware that the whole class was watching us with interest. "What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You told about Lennon," she hissed, struggling to pull me out the door.
"I didn't," I said, but looked around the room. Sure enough, there was a student on the phone, addressing someone with the title of Doctor. Everyone else was giving me superior looks, as if I had sunk below their level. They were looking at me like I was mad. "Shite, I did, didn't I…"
I looked at EC, then rushed out of the room at her side.
"Hey!" the substitute hollered after us, "Get back in class!"
We ignored her, leaping down the stairs and sprinting out the door.