Street Feeling

11 - A Limb Extended

Running from the station, throwing themselves back into the woods, burrs and splinters and thorns sticking to their clothes and skin as Frankie flew full sped ahead through the wilderness on their feet, they came upon the same clearing and fell to their knees, panting, lungs burning, heart aching. The wind chilled as if it had been populated with ghosts. They looked up and they could hear starlings crowing, they could see the real sky. It was dark outside now and there was no light except that of the moon and the little lights hung outside of the train car. Their slacks were sogged with mud and they were scraped at the knees. Shakily, Frankie picked themselves up and they moved to the door of Loki's house.

Around them they could hear the silent cries of night birds, the same tranquil song of metal wind chimes and the synchronized inhalation and the exhalation of the grass and trees and breeze, soaring past them like some sort of low-flying dragon. They breathed with the Earth, walking across peaceful stepping stones, watching a moth fly around one of the lamps outside of the car. They knocked three times. Footsteps of someone could be heard from behind the door, which opened in front of them. It almost seemed to hinge shyly, slowly, and there was Melea standing behind it.

"Vampire," she said. Frankie wondered how she knew. Her eyes were almost as if she was somewhere else, almost as if Frankie had interrupted a received omen. "You don't look so swell."

"I'm not," Frankie said, still feeling the sting of their scraped knees and elbows. Their voice was hoarse and ragged, their lungs and throat still weak from running.

She beckoned them inside, and once more they were immersed in the landscape of diagrams and timelines. They wiped their muddy shoes on the doormat. It felt warm, the lamps and the fire lit, the kettle being heated on a stove, but they weren't here for warmth. They were here for answers.

"Where's...uh-" Melea was about to say something, but seemed to catch herself. "...Your little friend?"

"I don't know," Frankie said. "But there's something that's been nagging me. And yes, it's about him. But actually, less about him. I'm just wondering."

"Okay," Melea shrugged. "What is it?"

"That...that timeline..." Frankie squinted at the chalkboards, trying to find it. They got up and traced it to where they found 2/11/1979. "This part, you said, was important. You said it was the day there was...I forget what, exactly. Something bad."

"Yeh, the split," she said. "They split it there."

"Okay, alright," they said, stepping back and looking at the wider picture. "I see it branches off there, yes. Goes from...am I reading that correctly? Timeline X to..."

"Timeline X to the Worst Timeline, yes," Melea said. She was smiling for some reason despite the weird title of the branch.

"Wait, the Worst Timeline?!" Frankie was shocked. "We're living in the Worst Timeline?"

"Well, yes."

"And what's Timeline X, exactly?" Frankie was starting to get very worried. It was all turning out to be more complicated than they expected.

"Oh, that's just the timeline you came from. It's just artificial separation anyway," Melea said. Her smile turned into a grin. Frankie was even more disturbed. "You're the same people as before. It's just who saves the world that gets to be different."

"What!" Frankie said. It sounds like something they would have heard Machine say on stage. "Okay, actually, I don't care. That's not what I came here to ask. It's just...this date. Elliot seemed...sad. And he said something to me."

"What did he say?"

"He asked me if I 'Ever remembered something and realized why you forgot it,' or something. He said something else about missing his parents. Not being able to afford being a consumerist..." Frankie played what had happened back in their mind. The hug was warm. But again, they weren't here for warmth. "Of course, that came up for no reason at all. The consumerist thing, I mean. No reason. But did this event have anything to do with him? Why was he so sad?"