House of Many Doors

Chapter 1

We both, openly, stared.

His eyes were patient. My face the wine he slowly sipped. Tasting every feature.

My eyes were alcoholic. I took him by the mouthfuls. His bourbon eyes  went down easily.

A pair of hands, with an apron for a background, walked into my peripheral vision and placed two menus on the table.

The slight interruption gave way for the 'what' of the situation to slap me red across my face.

"I blame Disney," I said with a smile.

Crinkles swam like waves around his eyes, "How so?"

"Typical Disney," I dramatically sighed, "Teaching girls it's fine to talk to strangers if they're hot."

I didn't stop there, "Here I am, sitting in a diner, because this guy I had just met has a great smile."

If that didn't break the ice, nothing would have.

"Said the girl with the most beautiful eyes," he winked.

Ice broken.

"I'm Seth," he flashed a grin, "I would shake your hand but it feels a little formal now."

"Lydia," I said, "but you already know that."

The apron returned. My eyes shifted upwards until a smiling blond met my gaze.

"Hi," I greeted the waitress, "I'll just have some green tea, please."

Her head turned towards him, before she left for another table, and he ordered coffee. No sugar. No milk.

"Back to the issue at hand," I stirred the conversation back to a question I had been burning to ask, "How do you know my name?"

"It's a crazy story," he warned.

"Give it to me straight."

"You asked for it," he grinned, "Have you ever heard about the multiverse?"

I frowned. Trying to predict how this had anything to do with him knowing me. But I asked for crazy.

There was no point in turning back, "This and that."

"Think of the multiverse as a diversely paged book. Every universe a page written in a unique font, style and language; dictated by different authors. Some parallel universes, similar to mine, are like carton. It's strong, solid and is believed by some to be superior. The one you grew up in is more of a piece of two-ply toilet paper," he smiled when I frowned, "Meaning, your universe is closely paralleled to one that has little to no differences. Paper-like universes tend to be unstable; their physics are not set laws."

The nod I gave contradicted with the confusion I felt. He continued.

"Most of the multiverse is inhabited by Onisms, a collection of species that is limited to one body that only functions in a given environment. An example from your universe: the extinct Martians. I fall under the collection known as Omnivers. We have certain traits. The ability, to different degrees, to move between universes, included. Navigating through the multiverse is like swimming underwater, blindly, from Europe to South America. If not trained and geared? Your survival would be shocking."

He looked uncertain but proceeded, "Then there's the third and final collection. You. Lydia."

I couldn't help but smile.

"Or," I said, "your a friend of a friend with a wild imagination, who happened to know my name?"

"Or I'm completely out of my mind," Seth raised his eyebrows, "or I'm from out of this world. It depends on what you're willing to believe."

The waitress brought a smile, tea and coffee.

"I'm intrigued," I said and leaned forward, "Tell me more."

"Not to sound like a cat poster," he drank from his coffee, "but you're special."

I smiled, "That's not necessarily a good thing."

"Some agree with you."

"How about you? Do you agree with the haters?"

"No, not with everything," he said, "They're afraid of what they don't understand. I agree that you could be dangerous. I can't deny that the uncertainty surrounding your existence is different and unknown, making it a scary. I don't agree with the method they use to deal with that fear."

My tummy felt uneasy. I tried to shake it off. I tried to convince myself that this was a game; that he was an oscar-deserving actor. I wanted to write him off as bonkers, yet he looked rational. What he said sounded genuine.

"They want to be fearless by exterminating the source that might cause them to feel differently," he said, "I try to be courageous-"

"Like a person suffering from arachnophobia holding a spider in attempt to overcome their fear," I interrupted.

Not that I would mind if he held me, I thought.

He smiled mischievously, like his mind rushed to the same type of thoughts- almost as if he read my mind.

"You can't read my mind, right?" I blurted without thinking.

As his smile grew in teeth, my worrisome thoughts grew in number.

"No," he said.

I wanted to slap myself. Of course he couldn't read my mind. How idiotic could I be to even consider his story to be a possibility.

But what if it's true? What if everything he had said was a truth I had been born oblivious to?

"Prove it," I demanded, "Show me the evidence to support your insanity."

Seth extended his hand. Opening his hand as an invitation for mine.

I laughed, "This is either the turning point for my sanity or the longest pickup line I've ever heard."

I put my hand into his.

"Your story is a poisoned apple," I said, "and true to my Disney ways, I've taken a big bite."

"An apple? More like a kiss, waking you up," he winked, "It's in the Prince Charming job description."