House Secret
Authors Note: Written in 2016, this was the first lengthier work I published, based on a short story I wrote in 2015 that garnered some popularity among my friends.
“It doesn't matter,” Allen said to his daughter, “In due time, you will understand.”
So unfair! Liya wanted to shout but kept quiet. There was no point arguing further with someone as dense as a rock.
She stormed down the old staircase, its wood complained with creaks and groans. The house should have been renovated at some point through the centuries, yet it never had. Liya would often wonder why, as her great grandfather thirty generations back had built it.
How does the house still stand? she wondered. It should have fallen apart long ago―right?
The neighboring houses were all much younger than theirs. Yet they had seen plenty of renovations over the years, so why hadn't theirs?
'The house is our heritage and legacy; it would be sacrilege to alter it!' Allen would often remind her. 'Remember, it's older than America itself!'
At some point, she thought, someone had to leave one home for another. Else, how would anyone ever end up some place new?
So... Liya wanted to leave.
The idea of spending the rest of her life in the family home was filled with feelings of dread and misery.
The reason why, was as simple as they always were for a sixteen-year-old: How else was she supposed to find love?
They lived in a small town with only five boys around her age. Out of those five, only one was of particularly dreamy stock. Unfortunately, he had never shown much interest in her, as all his energy was used to woo her best friend.
That particular sentiment did not sit well with Liya. What could she possibly offer that I can't? It boggled her mind. Sometimes she wondered if it was all a consequence of her unusual looks. Long straight brown hair. Icy blue eyes. Yet eastern facial features from her mother's side of the family. Do I really look that weird?
Not that she was allowed to be involved in romantic affairs. Her father had made it abundantly clear that she was not to pursue relations with anyone.
'Fleeting love would do none but harm the Barlow family secret,' Allen claimed. Whatever that alleged secret was, she was never told.
“I'm going to Mom's,” Liya shouted as she slammed the front door closed. A small decorative ship wheel which hung next to the door shook by the force and a rusty nail popped out. It fell to the floor with a faint clink.
As Liya walked along the road, she cursed her father. When she was younger, she didn't realize just how different her family was. Now that she was older, she understood how they deviated a lot from the norm. Other families lived under the same roof, shared dinner, had electricity and running water. Not the Barlow family. No, her father would never install any such contraptions, nor let his wife inside. Elsa, her mother, had to get her own house down the street as part of the marriage conditions. Only direct descendants were allowed to place their foot inside the Barlow household. It didn't make a lick of sense to Liya.
Just another of Dad's crazy traditions, she thought.
It didn't help that her question of 'Why' was forever ignored. Her father always gave her the same response when he had no answer: 'In due time, you will understand'. He would say.
Once again, he didn't give me an answer, she thought. Very well, he can keep it.
It had been his last chance this evening. She had tried to make it clear to him but once again, he didn't understand, or perhaps he simply didn't care. Now, she would make one final farewell to her mother, then run away from home, forever.
Allen was still on the upper floor in his study, preparing a ceremony he had planned for the evening.
He procured a weathered old letter from the family heirloom chest. It was time for Liya to know the truth. Just as it had been done through the ages on the eve of the heir's sixteenth birthday. A ceremony of sort. Allen didn't know why it was so, but who was he to meddle with the way things had always been?
According to Nora, his mother. Not following the doctrine of tradition could forever break what made their family unique. 'It's like introducing a street mutt to a family of cats', Nora would explain. 'Nothing good ever came from that'.
Allen poured himself a glass of whiskey and plopped down at his old wooden chair in the study room. The ice in his glass clinked as he rested his feet on the desk and his arm against his flaming red head. A scowl appeared on his tense brows when he thought back on his youthful days.
A young Allen had, against his mother's wishes, left their home one evening. His plan was perfect, or so the spirit of his youth had decided. He would hitchhike with Burt Reynolds, an old farmer, who would leave town that evening. Just as he did each year. There was a harvest market a town over, and Burt happened to be an accomplished radish farmer.
Allen climbed up and took a seat next to Burt. He peeked a look at the content of the cart, expecting there to be bags of radishes. With a perplexed look on his face, he turned to the aged farmer.
“Uh... Where is your harvest, sir?”
“Oh, we're not going to the market lad! Your mother came by and offered to buy my entire stock if I happened to find you in my care this fortunate evening.”
“What's she going to do with all those radishes?” Allen asked without thinking.
“Beats me,” Burt said with a hackling laugh then whipped his horse towards the Barlow home.
Sour and bitter, Allen cursed his fate as they arrived.
“Thank you Burt,” Nora said and threw him a large sack of coin. “That will be all.”
Allen crossed his arms in defiance as he left the cart and strode inside. Nora waved to Burt a final thanks as the old man gestured his surprise by the wealth of the sack with coins. It was far more than he had asked for.
Inside the house, Nora handed a Allen a letter. It was old and weathered.
Elsa was happy to see her daughter despite her exhaustion. She had just arrived home from work and closed the door behind her when the doorbell rang. She was an engineering teacher at the local university. She had quickly rummaged through the kitchen cabinet and found a bin of coffee which she cooked for her daughter. She didn't drink it herself, but she always kept it around for times when Allen or Liya came to visit. It also helped her enjoy a particular fond memory of times yonder. After all, it was coffee which had brought Allen and her together as lovers two decades ago.
Liya had positioned herself by the windowsill of her mother's home with a cup of coffee in hand, looking out. Most of the coffee was gone by now and what remained had already grown cold and bitter.
“What's wrong dear?” Elsa asked with no hint of concern, she was a veteran at spotting her daughter's drama cues.
“I can't take it anymore,” Liya complained, “Dad is impossible to deal with, I'm not even allowed to bring my smartphone into the house! How am I supposed to fit in and keep friends when I stick out like a sore thumb?”
She turned around to face her mother, her face did no attempts to hide her dismay.
“Oh sweetie,” Elsa said, “it's just the way things are with him.”
Liya swallowed the bitter content of her mug in jest, her emotions were analogous.
“How can you stay married to someone who clearly doesn't care enough about you to break tradition! You know it's all he ever talks about! Tradition, tradition, tradition!”
Elsa motioned for Liya's mug and filled it with a second serving. She then seated herself at the kitchen table.
“Your father is a good man,” she said. “He does what he believes is right for us, even if it may sometimes seem the opposite.”
“Forget I asked.”
Liya gulped down her refill then went to her bedroom. A room which she seldom used due to how things were, but a room she had fitted with a sense of identity; to be her own. Much more so than the room she had at the Barlow house. In here, she had a TV connected with a gaming console and a couple of games next to it. A computer at a desk with small fancy speakers, a wireless keyboard and mouse. Stuffed animals covering her pink and silky smooth bed. A makeup cabinet cluttered with small boxes next to a full body mirror. On the floor she had a nice blue striped purple carpet. There was also a small stool which was the home of her most prized possession – her smartphone. She rested it on the stool with a charger cable connected to it. The phone was the only device she wouldn't leave behind. It frustrated her that she always had to leave it in the mailbox when she entered her Father's house. 'A “mobile” phone is useless if it's in the mailbox, Dad.' She would often complain. She had decorated the wall next to her bed with a set of small posters and photos of friends and famous studs.
Back in the kitchen, Elsa reviewed an old memory, as she often did when the aroma of coffee hung in the air and she was left alone with her thoughts.
Back when she was a teenager she worked as a waitress at the local coffee house. With her Chinese ancestry, the boys would always pursue her for her exotic promises, never for her own self. She could never quite figure out why they were so fascinated by her almond shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and straight black hair.
One day, a handsome young man had stumbled his way in. He seemed confused and spoke with a thick accent, as if he came from some farmers' home way into the country. He ordered a cup, and she obliged. It wasn't anything fancy, but the face he made suggested it was the best coffee he ever had.
Enchanted by the odd yet polite and charming boy, she suggested he should bring her to dance at the town's hall. The dance was arranged once a week and it was considered the hottest event for the town's young couples. Elsa had not attended for months, but perhaps it was time to try again. It could be a lot of fun with such a cute and fascinating boy.
The evening was pleasant and they shared a kiss. She never brought anyone else to the dance ever again.
Back at the Barlow home, Allen was struggling with the next stage of the ceremony preparation. He wondered how the Barlow's of the past had managed to go through with it.
Well, my mother was no mystery, he thought. She would likely have left me behind if it was up for choice.
Allen never knew his own father. 'If not a Barlow, then not a concern', Nora had said.
It's not like there were any other Barlow's around, he thought. Just a quick look through the ancestral tree suggested there seldom was. Just parent and child.
Elsa knocked on Liya's door. “Honey?” she called “We should go see your father, perhaps we can mend things.”
Liya had packed a few things in her backpack, one of the stuffed toys; a large blue elephant, her favorite. It presented a memory of better times. Five sets of clothes, a handheld gaming console and the phone charger. Her smartphone was snuggly placed in her back pocket. She was just about ready for her adventure.
“No point, Mom,” Liya replied, “I'm never going back there.”
“We have had this argument dear,” Elsa said firmly. “Your father needs you.”
“No he doesn't! All he needs is his house and those precious family traditions of his!”
“Come now, you know that isn't so! How is he supposed to buy groceries without your instructions? You know he's dense with technology, especially when it comes to credit cards.”
“He has you, Mom, maybe it would get the two of you back on track with your marriage if you took care of things again.”
“Liya, that's not fair! You know our relationship has always been complicated!” she said and then added in quiet voice, “... But stable.”
“Fine, sorry, but I'm not going inside the house, we can talk, but I'm done with that place.”
“Good enough for me.”
Liya opened the door, she had the backpack on her back.
“What's with the luggage?” Elsa asked.
“Precaution,” Liya said with a shrug. She had no desire to discuss it further.
Allen stood at the porch, almost all preparations done, mind made ready. Now all that was missing was his daughter. He worried she might have planned to stay the night at his wife's place. That wouldn't do, as it was the final eve of revelations. It could only be done on her sixteenth birthday as it had always been. If it was delayed, perhaps it would be the end of their special place in the universe. Allen also didn't like the prospect of seeing his wife if he went there to bring Liya home. He wasn't sure he could handle it if he did.
He heard two sets of gravelly steps scraping against the asphalt, someone was coming. He hope it would be Liya and one of her friends seeing her home, but alas that was not meant to be. A knot built inside his stomach as he saw Elsa emerge together with their daughter.
“Why...” Allen murmured.
“Hi, honey,” Elsa said, “you upset our daughter again, I hope we can clear things up a bit.”
A tear rolled down Allen's cheek, “You're not supposed to be here.”
“Why would you say that?” she demanded. “If this is how it's going to be I'd rather take our daughter back with me.”
“No,” Allen said with more tears pouring down his face. “That's not what I meant.”
“What's wrong Dad?” Liya asked, she had never seen him cry before.
“I don't think I can do this.”
“What do you mean?” Elsa asked, her brows curled with concern.
“Our daughter, it is her time to take the family rite of passage, to take ownership of the house.”
“I don't want it! You can keep it!”
“It's not about what we want, it's about honoring the family.”
“But honey, why does it make you sad?”
“Because it means I... We, have to leave you behind, my love.”
“What kind of stupid tradition is that!” Liya shouted, “Unbelievable!”
“The one that matters most,” Allen said as he collapsed to the ground, bawling.
“Oh, honey,” Elsa said as she stepped up on the porch and draped him in her arms.
“I am scared... The two of us will part forever... Confronting it now, it feels worse than death... I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough to go through with this... Yet seeing you here, in front of me, it's too much,” he said between sobs.
Liya had enough with the drama. She didn't want the house nor its secrets. She didn't care for the traditions. It was all nonsense to her. Stepping past her parents and entering the house, she saw the preparations. Her father had lit candles on a round table next to the old staircase. The candles illuminating an old weathered letter.
Is this what it's all about? she thought. The family secret that's been ruining my life was an old piece of paper?
She fought the urge to tear it apart as she started to read. A quick glance revealed it as a set of instructions and theory behind the family secret. At the bottom, in big letters, there was a message from Earl Barlow himself, the man who built their home:
“I write this for my son, who will hand it to his own, who will hand it to his, and so it must pass forever.
Congratulations on your sixteenth birthday. It is time for you to now assume a great responsibility. This task that has been passed to you will transcend you beyond human understanding.
With this house, the world is yours.
By twisting the handles on the wheel next to the house entrance door, you command not only time, but space as well. You can move the house anywhere, be it in times past, future, unknown lands, or famous cities. Explore what has been, and what will come to pass.
I do not myself know how this came to be, only that it is. I thus urge you to follow the steps listed, so that our family's power, this house secret, will remain with us for all of time.
As a final heed, there is no control behind the directions of travel. I built the house on Scottish Highlands and by happenstance fiddled with the wheel. It brought me and the house to a green plain with strange looking wisents and long necked camels. I had seen camels on my travels through Asia, these were not of the same ilk.
It is now your destiny to command the house. This being your sixteenth birthday, you have to turn the wheel to fulfill your duty: to know truth. You may turn it as many times as you wish.
A word of advice: let your children acclimate and prosper where you settle, until their time has come. Just like I did you.”
She put the paper down and walked over to the ship wheel, carefully studying its shape and purpose. It had always been there, yet she had never before identified it as anything but a piece of decoration. Passing it by, day by day, without a second thought. Now, it could potentially be something more, something alien, something bigger than her. It was as if a strange reality exploded in her mind.
For most people, just as for her, consequence was secondary to action. She turned the wheel.
As she opened the door with a slow motion, her view gave her a sinking feeling in her chest. She couldn't believe she almost bought what the old letter had stated. There, on his knees, was her father, crying into her mother's chest.
“Is this a joke?” She said. “Dad, it doesn't work.”
“What?”
“The wheel.”
“What?”
“The wheel, Dad.”
“Did you break it?”
“No, Dad,” she sighed and rolled her eyes, “I just did what the paper said.”
“You were planning to leaving us behind?”
“Honey, what is she talking about?”
Allen wobbled up on his feet and entered the house. He closed the door, leaving a confused Elsa on her own at the porch. He took a deep breath then turned the wheel. As he exhaled, he slowly opened the door again, Elsa still stood outside. He repeated the process, yet nothing changed.
It's broken... he thought as shiver ran through his spine. He staggered back from the wheel. It's broken? he thought again, staring at the wheel, confusion plastering his face. It's broken! he thought for a third time as a thin smile formed on his lips.
“It's broken!” he proclaimed at the top of his lungs with wild smile.
He dashed out the door and embraced his wife in his arms.
“Elsa, it's broken!”
He took a small step back from her, creating a short distance between them. He gripped her hands in his, and pulled her into the house. She rejected his pull for just a moment, all those years, forbidden to enter. Like an invisible force, she couldn't help but feel like something bad was about to happen. She looked into his eyes, they were still red from his tears, but there was a glimmer of hope and joy. A glimmer she had not seen for years. She fell into those eyes, like she had so long ago, She let herself be whiskered away. She was pulled into the dark, mysterious and forbidden place – The Barlow Home.
Liya looked at her parents, their faces expressing emotions she had never seen before. Were they happy? Scared? She couldn't tell what it was.
Allen pulled Elsa up the old staircase.
“The family legacy is over! No more do I have to fear losing you,” he said as another tear slid down his cheek, this time of joy. “No more do we have to remain apart.”
“I don't understand.”
“I am finally free from the family burden,” he explained. “Free to live my life together with you, at last, my love.”
Her eyes watered, “Does this mean...?”
“Yes! A hundred times, yes!”
Liya could hear her parent's voices vanishing up the stairs. She didn't mean to ever set her foot inside the house again, but those feelings were now fading. She took a look around, imagining what changes there could be now that the family secret appeared to be broken. She walked to the door that her father had left wide open.
What now? she thought. Should I make a run for the last bus of the evening?
Was her reason to leave no longer there? Liya stood in silence, contemplating her choices. She was lost. For the past three years she wanted nothing more than to leave this house and have a taste of freedom. Now, was that reason gone? She felt like a fire out of fuel.
Will Dad come to accept change? Could we be a normal family? For a moment, she had these thoughts, but the memories of her father were painted with rigid traditions and bizarre rules. Change... It is what I wanted... right? Her contemplation began to pound inside her skull as if a hedgehog was lodged tight inside. There will still be a bus waiting for me tomorrow... I should sleep on it.
Liya closed the door then turned around with an overwhelming sigh. She felt something under her foot and took a step back. There, on the floor, she saw an old rusty nail. She plucked it from the floor. Her eyes trailing the direction of its possible origin.
”...What if?” she said to herself, matching it to the wheel. It fit, she turned it, then opened the door.
A surreal nothingness presented itself outside the house. It was, for all intents and purposes, a pure black void. Liya felt a sudden rush of fear pulse from her head all the way down to the soles of her feet.
“Shit...” she whispered to herself as she stepped out on the porch and looked around. “What the hell happened?”
The void seemed to defy all logic. She could not see or feel anything from it, there was no light nor wind. Yet somehow she could draw breath, somehow... She could see her hands and the porch. There was even a sensation of humid warmth in her lungs.
What is this place? She wondered as she carefully bent down at the edge of the porch then reached for the blackness with her fingertips. There was pressure there, like touching the floor. Not that she could see it, yet by some means; there it was, and it felt to her as cool as stone.
She summoned all her courage and ventured off the porch and into the darkness. Once she had made a short distance from the house, she turned around to look.
Maybe I should go back, she thought.
Before she could make her decision, a quiet thud sounded from the direction of the house. It made her to jump in fright. The wheel came tumbling through the door, onto the porch then wobbled towards her. She froze, eyes locked on the moving threat. It eventually reached her and she stopped it with the tip of her shoe then quickly took a few steps away. As it tipped over to rest, one of the handles loosened. Her gaze trailed back to the door of the house. An option for safety that remained open.
Yeap, back I go, she thought.
Just as she was about to dash for the door, she stopped in her tracks and observed the wheel intensely.
Calm down, Liya. It's just a wheel. I'm gonna need it to control the house.
As she bent down to pick it up, a rush of eerie white static noise closed in on her location. Hyperventilating, she tightly gripped onto the wheel, hoping to ease her fears. Her hair began to stand, as if thunder loomed in the air.
Mom... Dad... She panicked, gaze fixated on the house. She was desperate to get back, but the house began to shrink as if flying away from her. Soon, all she saw, was darkness.
“So, what do you think?” Allen asked as he stared into Elsa's beautiful brown eyes. Nothing about her had changed since they day they had first met. Her flexibility, optimism and passion of life was what kept their marriage together. She was his pillar, his light.
Sure, the past few years had been rough and difficult, especially with Liya's constant search for conflict. But even then, Allen knew that everything would be alright as long as Elsa was by his side.
What he had tried to do was insane! To leave her like that, why had he even considered it? He could not fathom a life without her. For them to have the ability to stay together wherever they were, be it in the Barlow House or elsewhere in the world, it was a dream come true.
“It's lovely, honey,” she said with a sweet smile.
The smile on his lips just wouldn't rest. He had been smiling so widely all this time, the muscles started to strain, yet he couldn't stop.
“I know it's not much,” he said. “It's rather derelict, in more ways than one.”
“Nonsense, it's your family home, your treasure!”
“Not anymore,” he trailed off. The smile still wouldn't settle. To finally be free from the shackles of the Barlow's secret was a release.
We can finally lead an ordinary life! A life that Elsa and Liya both deserve!
His smile faded as it dawned on him how it had never been the Barlow House Secret at the core of their misery. He had been the center of it all along.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” Allen confided. “It would have saved us a lot of trouble...”
What had been the point of the House Secret in the first place? He never wanted the house's powers. It never did anyone any good. The only good thing the house had ever done for him was guide him to Elsa, the love of his life. As a Barlow descendant, he was obligated to keep the family's legacy. He had sacrificed so much as a Barlow and for the sake of Liya. He wanted her to have the opportunity of choices no one else in the world could ever have. To command the house and go wherever she desired, to achieve her dreams and find her happiness.
All these years, he had been so focused on providing her with that gift. He had ignored the fact that she was suffering as a consequence as well. As if he had forgotten what it was like to be in her shoes. Why didn't he just bury the House Secret and all the pain it brought from the start? It would have solved so many problems, problems that, up until this point, had driven him to pieces.
“Everything will be alright, honey,” Elsa said as she gently placed her warm hands on his stiff shoulders. “We still have the matter of our daughter to deal with. I'm quite certain she's still cross with you.”
Birds chirped in the distance and a smell of fresh morning dew hung in the air.
Daylight... Liya thought with a relief, yet gripped the wheel as if it was the only ounce of sanity left.
What had been darkness was now an idyllic, yet unfamiliar place. A lush plain with several breeze patterns danced by the grass. She couldn't see any trees nearby. The horizon seemed short before her and she soon discovered a cliff ahead.
Her knees were weak from distress and she let herself collapsed onto the ground. Never before had the damp earth felt like a blessing. She took a few deep breaths of the fresh air as she rolled over onto her back enjoying the blue sky. From afar, she noticed a faint voice in the jumble of birdsong.
A man's voice...?
She got up on her feet and edged herself to the cliff. A breathtaking view of the plains below seemingly extended on forever. Right below her, near the walls of the cliff, was a small figure tinkering with what looked like a large and complicated machinery.
Allen and Elsa both shared a sense of distress, Liya wouldn't answer their calls. Had she run away, like she said she would? They didn't know, and it worried them. The change they had just experienced together was momentous; it had changed their lives forever—Surely, she understood as much?
The staircase squeaked eerily as Elsa made her way down. Each step had further intensified her anxiety as if the house closed in on her, rattling her state of mind.
“I don't like these stairs,” she murmured.
“Did she go out?” Allen asked, he still stood on the top of the stairs.
“The door is open.”
She walked the short distance from the stairs to the door, then froze.
“Can you see her?”
Elsa wouldn't answer, she just stood there. Allen made his way down the stairs to join her and as he reached the door, he too, froze by her side.
Liya reached the bottom of the cliff and found an old, bald man with a pair of bushy orange mutton chops. He donned an old fashioned attire of blue and grey; it was in complete contrast to the intricate brilliance of machinery he was building. She wondered where he stored the machine parts, as there were no cars nor caches. It was as if everything had been dumped in place, then puzzled together piece by piece.
The old man had noticed her late in her climb down the rocky cliff walls.
“Hey there lass, what are ye doing there?” he asked with a thick highlander accent.
“Uh―hello. I saw you from up top,” she pointed up. “Had to get a closer look of what you're building here. Very interesting. What is it?”
“Something, lass,” he said with a pause, “that ye wouldn't understand.”
“Try me.”
“Well, is a machine. Things, it does.”
“What things?”
“Just... things. Ye wouldn't ken.”
She rolled her eyes at that, then gave him a tired smile.
“Come on, was my dangerous climb for naught?”
“Is complicated, alright?”
“What? Is it classified?”
“Eh, yes―that word.”
“Alright, fine. Be a stranger then.”
“Has anyone ever told ye, ye'r one odd lass?”
“I got more,” she said with a pause, contemplating the wisdom of presenting her next question. “What year is it?”
The old man nicked his head back and blinked his eyes in bewilderment.
“Ye'r an odd one, that,” said the old man, “November the 10th, 1443.”
Allen stepped off the porch and out into the darkness. He shouted for Liya, yet not even an echo would answer his calls. Was there nothing out there to reflect his voice? Elsa gripped the porch rail with her nervous sweaty hands. She dared not to venture further. The black nothingness frightened her to the her bones.
After minutes of futile shouting, Allen gave up and made his way back to his wife.
“I don't know what's going on,” he said as he ran his hands through his red hair.
“You're the wizard,” she snapped. “You figure it out!”
“It doesn't make sense.”
“You think!”
“It's alright, go ahead and blame me. I don't know where to go from here, how to find her, how to get us back.”
“Why...?”
“This must have something to do with the house secret, but I don't understand how. The wheel which directs the passage through time should have been broken, at least I assume as much... But now? I don't know. It could still be broken and we somehow slipped through time, which would be even worse. Still, if that is the case, wherever we are, I don't know if there is any way back without the wheel. I believe it's the foundation of the house's power.”
Elsa collapsed, yet her hand still gripped the railing.
“Even if we had a way back, we can't leave without Liya... We have to find her...” Allen muttered.
“Please, fix this...” Elsa said with a wavering tone.
Liya inspected and prodded the construction. The old man seemed annoyed by her presence, but said nothing.
The machinery wasn't pompous by any means. Rather, it was connected by glass tubes, circuit boards, metal hinges, and so on. In a way, she thought it looked like the inside of a computer, just like one of those she had built back in school. Except this was on a far larger scale, like a network of computers interlaced in a mysterious manner.
She did not understand the date he gave her. Was it six hundred years in the past? she thought to herself. Perhaps there had been an event? Some kind of change that had created a new calendar date for mankind.
“Don't ye have some place to be, preferably someplace that isn't here?” he grunted.
“Nope.”
Her hands were behind her back as she leaned in beside him with a gleeful smile.
“What does that do?”
He turned to her, noticing how close she was.
“Ack!” he stumbled to the side, dropping his tools to gain purchase. “Ye'r such a pest!”
“Thank you!” she straightened her back with pride.
“Tha's not a compliment.”
“Are you sure?”
He groaned then rolled his eyes as he picked up his tools and went back to work.
She moved a pace from him and took a seat at one of the metal panels.
“You know,” she said with a less playful tone, “in the short of a day, I've had experiences most people would dream about.”
He ignored her. She continued.
“Most people would probably think me crazy if I told them about it.”
He quirked an eyebrow and tried to hide it. She saw.
“You think you have it all figured out, but then you realize just how insignificant you are and how little you understand of things.”
“We call that life, lass.”
“How do I deal with it?”
“Don't have to make sense of everything.”
“I mean, like... Where do I go from here? Nothing makes sense anymore, not even my own existence or the world... Nothing.”
“When that happens, think of something ye want for yerself, 'an focus on that. Can't always make sense of things, nor do ye have to.”
“I don't know what I want.”
“Well then, tha's what ye want. Ye want to ken what ye want. See?”
She contemplated that for a moment.
“Are you trying to confuse me?”
A smirk formed on the side of his lips.
“So... What did you do last time? I mean, when you ran into a crisis and didn't know where to go from there?”
“Oh I'm doing it right now lass.”
She looked at him, then around herself.
So he decided to sink his sorrow or whatever it was that led him here into the construction of this thing then? she thought. But why? What does it do?
“Lass, what's with the steering wheel ye got there in yer hand?”
She looked into her hands, she still held the wheel.
”...A memento,” she answered.
Allen heard a faint noise from a far distance. It sounded like electrical charges closing in. He reluctantly let go of Elsa, who had been in his embrace, to look out across the blackness, searching for the source of the sound. In the far off distance, small smudges appeared in the black oblivion.
Allen could feel a static electricity increasing as the alien objects drew in and began to grow. He squinted, trying hard to make sense of the smudges.
“Look there!” he stuttered as he poked at his wife to look out ahead.
Elsa turned around and blinked with a bewildered expression on her face.
A colony of houses came whizzing towards them and settled in varying distances from where they stood. They weren't just any houses; they were all the Barlow House―almost exact replicas of their own. Before Allen and Elsa could contain themselves, the doors of each house popped open.
Liya fiddled with the broken handle of the wheel. The one that broke when it had tipped over before. She carefully removed it from its socket and looked at the part which had been connected inside. It was metallic in nature, and there were two thin spikes poking out. At first glance it just looked like nails, but as she took a closer look it was more akin to connectors.
Was it?
She noticed the old man looking at her with interest.
He wouldn't know ...Right?
“Can I see that?” he asked.
“Sorry, classified,” she said in jest, trying to hide her concern, then reluctantly handed him the wheel with a shrug. Playing it down as a casual gesture.
He inspected it lightly, his orange bushy brows furrowing.
“This...I!” he said and turned around, making quick steps to the edge of the construct. There, he revealed a hatch as he opened it.
She followed him with her gaze. She couldn't see what he was doing in the enclosed space as his head was dipped down below.
“What are you doing?” she said as she started to walk.
“Stay back!”
She took a step back and paused.
“What are you doing to it!”
He got out from the hatch, and looked at her. He had a deep concern in his eyes, yet would say nothing. He brought the wheel from under, the handle now attached, then threw it to her. She caught it, her gaze locked with his.
Vibrations came from the wheel, numbing her fingers.
“What did you do to it!”
“Young lass,” he said coolly, “who are ye?”
”...Liya! But that's not important right now! What did you do to my wheel!”
“Liya what? I very much dislike half-cocked answers.”
The vibrations from the wheel became stronger.
“Liya Barlow! The wheel! Now, tell me!”
The old man paused for a minute then broke into a boisterous loud laugh.
“For a moment there, I thought they've caught up with me! Well, Liya, my lassie, tis' a pleasure to meet another Barlow.”
Liya's eyes widen and asked, “What do you mean 'another Barlow'? Wait, we're getting off topic. Why is the wheel vibrating!”
The old man completely dismissed her question and continued rambling.
“I can see where yer strong personality came from. It clearly runs in the Barlow bloodline!” he laughed and nodded with approval. “I might just have solved yer problem. I think. Then again, I might have been the cause for it in the first place.”
“Hey, old man, I asked you a question!” Liya yelled with concern and irritation.
She let out a gasp when she felt the wheel grow hot from its vibrations.
“Who the hell are you!” she screamed.
The old man smirked and replied, “Earl Barlow, at yer service. Take care of yerself, young lassie.”
Before she could rebut, once more, darkness swallowed her whole.
Elsa puffed and panted. The strange phenomenon seemed to have slowed into a stop. There were more houses than one could count.
With wide eyes, Allen moved down the small steps of the house.
“What is going on?” he said. “What is this!”
A crackling sound exploded from the door of their house and a dazed Liya stumbled out soon after.
“Mom?”
“Liya!” Elsa cried and ran to tightly embrace her daughter. “Where were you? What happened? Oh my sweet child!”
Allen rushed to embrace them both.
Finally together again... How long had it been since we were all in each other's arms? Allen couldn't recall. He felt like all the tension between him and his family quickly vanished. All that was left now was to get his family home, to merely find a way out of the void.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I'm alright, but I'm not sure what's going on... I met with great grandfather, though.”
“You what?” Allen asked as he released his embrace.
“I don't know? The wheel rolled out of the house and as I picked it up, I found myself on a grassy plain with Earl.”
Elsa made distance to check on her daughter's wellbeing. No longer choking from the family hug, Liya's eyes shot wide open with disbelief seeing a crowd grow outside of their house.
“Uh! What? Ah!” she stuttered like a dumbfounded fish and pointed with a trembling finger.
Like a house of mirrors, countless Liyas stuck their heads out their respective doors. They all had bewildered expressions on their faces. Some gawked like dumbfounded goldfish, others dashed back inside screaming with fright. A rare few allowed curiosity to get the better of them and calmly approached the family, who in turn was now frozen like deer in the headlights of a moving car. It must have appeared to the others that they had been in the void a while longer than the rest of them.
Soon, what stood before them were multiple iterations of Liya; all the same yet different. If she ever wondered how many styles and looks she could explore in a lifetime, all the variations were now present before her: fat, skinny, punk, geek, fuzzy haired... Her mind began to spin.
“What the hell...” whispered Allen as his eyes scanned from left to right.
“So many Liyas... Where did they come from?” Elsa whispered back.
A Liya with pink hair and pop-star dress was first to stand before them. She bent over to carefully inspect the family and then down at her own dress and hands, then turned to look at a crowd of herself that stood in silence.
“What are you all?” She asked.
“I could ask the same question back at all you!” Retorted a Liya from the crowd.
“This is so cool! So many copies of me!” Squealed another Liya with pigtails and jeans.
“How did we all get here?—Wherever here is...” Pop-star Liya asked.
Then they all started throwing questions at one another. It was like a stock market office where everyone's voices were trying to dominate one another. Only the Original Liya stood in silence, deep in thought. She was trying to piece it all together. First, the House Secret, which brought her here. Next was the serene place where she met Earl and then back to the void. Now an army of herself appeared to congregate. She wondered if perhaps her actions had been the catalyst of it all.
She swallowed hard and murmured, “I might have started all this...”
“What do you mean you might have started all this!” Pop-star Liya yelled.
A dead silence was in the air as the crowd turned to face the Original Liya. She had never felt so embarrassed in her entire life, being scrutinized by hundreds of herself. What! She wanted to shout but held back. She could feel her eyebrows twitch with irritation, but otherwise managed to keep her expression calm.
It would be ridiculous to pick a fight with myself, she thought.
After a long, deep, breath, she began the tale of her strange encounters...
”...And he said, 'Earl Barlow, at your service.' Then suddenly, I was here...” She finished her story. After retelling the series of events, of Earl, of the machine and of the wheel to all the Liya's who gathered at their porch.
“Maybe he did something with that machine, like booting it up or something. So, when your wheel got loose it homed in on whatever it could fit for the time, and it sent you there. To the time when he built the house,” A Liya said, she had long black hair and bizarre blonde bangs obscuring her eyes.
“You know what? I'm more desperate to know,” Original Liya said. “In what timeline would I ever get myself such a terrible emo haircut!”
“Ha, look who's talking. Ever heard of the word style?” Emo Liya scoffed. “It's been my signature for the past 5 years.”
“I hope we're not the same age,” Original Liya said.
“Sixteenth birthday, today.”
“Argh... Why!”
“Actually,” Another Liya chimed in. This one had a few more pounds on her but otherwise the same style as Original Liya, “I think we're not from different timelines.”
“What do you mean?” Allen asked. “It's a time machine. We know that for a fact.”
“Do we?” Chubby Liya said. “All we know are the message in Earl's letter, and the Barlow legacy that my father told me about. Plus, I am guessing that the lot of us turned sixteen today.”
“But...”
“Look around you!” A short-haired, tomboyish Liya said. “Does this look like a place in time! Absolute darkness?”
“They're right, Allen,” Elsa said. “From what I can gather, it would seem that the machine travels through a multiverse.”
“Yes!” Tomboy Liya said. “That's what I think too.”
“How else could she have met Earl Barlow?” Allen tried to argue. “He said it was the 14th century!”
“As you can see, the many versions of our daughter have different quirks and personalities about them. It is reasonable to conclude that perhaps time itself works differently as well.”
“I'm confused,” Original Liya said. “If everything is different, yet similar, then why are there so many of me? In a multiverse, shouldn't the chances of me being born rare? Especially considering how different we all are from one another―Which further adds to the confusion! We have each lived a very different life. I mean, I would never get a haircut like those two, or stuff myself like that one, no offense. Clearly, each of these universes are extremely different from our own. So how come I was born, and at about the right time too, for my sixteenth birthday? Considering I met with Earl Barlow, I haven't even had a chance to be born in that time stream!”
“Simply put, the multiverse hypothesis suggests there's an infinite amount of probabilities,” Elsa concluded. “Out of all the universes that would appear to exist, you have only been born a limited number of times. Likewise, I believe the parameters to end up here have limiting requirements ...Wherever 'here' is.”
“So there's a bunch of me that aren't here yet, and maybe never will trigger the same chain of events to lead them here?”
“You said it yourself, you just had a run-in with our great grandfather,” Emo Liya added. “None of us here have had the same experience, we merely turned the wheel and here we are.”
“This might be slightly off topic, but... Mom, Dad, there's also a bunch of you guys coming at us,” Original Liya said as she pointed at the iterations of Elsa and Allen gathering a distance from their porch.
Elsa and Allen stepped off the porch and approached the large group of themselves. Apart for slight weight difference, clothes, and the few lone Allen's, they looked much like themselves. No radical differences like all those Liyas had. Elsa grabbed Allen's arm and held it tight so they wouldn't get mixed up. Others appeared to have had the same idea as well.
“Hi,” Elsa said to the group as they arrived and gave them a short wrap-up of her current hypothesis. “So, any of you happen to be an engineer too?”
More than half of them had never left the waitress job at the old coffee house. Two had pursued a different career altogether. The remaining few were established engineers and teachers just like herself.
“The Barlow Family Secret,” Original Allen said to another while his wife discussed their course of action with her counterparts, “all lies...”
“I understand you have had time to seethe your anger, but I disagree,” another, logical, Allen said. “It sounds to me like the secret just happened to be deeper than we were lead to believe.”
“Why the secrecy though?”
“Perhaps he was running away from something? Or merely wanted the machine to be kept within the family at all cost. It's a very powerful device, after all.”
“It ain't matter...” slurred a disheveled and depressed looking Allen.
He stood next to the Original Allen, who caught a pungent scent of alcohol drifting from his other self.
Ugh, what a repulsive smell! The Original Allen thought as he backed away a few steps, then stared in disbelief. I'm an alcoholic?
“Nothing matters anymore!” Drunk Allen yelled as he crashed down to the ground with a bottle of whiskey and broke into tears.
“It's all for naught...” he murmured with a hoarse voice as he laid flat on the blackness like a stringless puppet.
There was a heavy silence amongst all the Allens. They knew the worst of their nightmares had befallen this broken version of themselves. His beloved Elsa had left him forever, leaving nothing but despair and misery reflected in his bloodshot eyes. It was like a vivid nightmare, seeing the end result of a path the Original Allen had narrowly avoided. It made his heart twist in agony.
“I can't imagine the pain you're suffering,” Original Allen said as he helped the Drunk Allen back onto his feet.
“He had his chances with her and lost—And from that level of alcohol—I'm guessing it was quite some time ago,” Logical Allen said. “It is worse for those of us who assumed the voyage to this blasted place and left her behind in vain for the sake of the family secret.”
“See, if only we had known the truth, none of you would've had parted ways,” Original Allen said. “We have to figure a way for you to get back to her.”
Drunk Allen pushed away from the rest of them, these assholes don't understand, she would never take me back, not now, not ever.
“Leave me be...” he pushed through the crowd and groggily wobbled off into the distance.
“Can you believe that guy?” Another Allen said. “He would put Liya through his drunken debauchery, and for what? Because his Elsa left? How is that fair to our daughter? I don't even want to imagine how she leads a life in a home like that. If anything, perhaps we should keep her safe from him. Anyone wants an extra daughter?”
“I'll try figure out which of our daughter's belong to him.”
“As much as I love our daughter, my hands are full with just one. Thank you very much,” joked a hearty Allen, who received a warning pinch from an Elsa for being inappropriately cheeky at a situation like this.
“Excuse me,” Original Elsa chimed in, “I believe, if we can figure out how the machine works at its core, we might be able to send everyone back to their respective reality.”
Save for the Original Allen―Who was on a mission of his own―The party of adults began to tear apart the Original Barlow Family's house. It was a sacrifice the original Elsa and Allen had agreed to in order to uncover the mysteries of the machinery's operation lest they all be stuck inside the void for eternity. House or no house was a minor concern as none of the families had found a way to escape the bizarre place. They knew the wheel held some potential properties for travel, they just didn't know how to operate it.
Most of the Liyas had little in the form of strength to help out with the tearing. They tried with crowbars and other tools, but their efforts had underwhelming results. The shyer ones had also decided to appear, once curiosity—which seemed to be a universal trait for her—got the better of them.
Neat stacks of old grey wood, coupled with metal frames and nails, had been lined up around the remains of what was once their house. The machine now laid bare.
Original Liya gave a tour around the machine, tracing the steps of her observation from Earl. Once she was done with it, all the present Elsa's began their work.
“This technology is incredibly complicated,” Original Elsa said. “I don't know what to make of it.”
“There should be some instructions,” Another Elsa pointed out. “What about the hatch, anyone found it yet?”
“Should be around here,” Original Liya said, “Ah-ha!”
A group of Elsas gathered around Original Liya. The hatch had rusted shut by age and so a couple of Allens had to work it open. What they found inside was less than climatic, some extra bolts and connectors, and yet another letter...
“Hope you're not one of my dissidents. If you are of the Barlow blood, I assume you have discovered the truth of our legacy; hence, I leave here simple instructions for use:
On the other end opposite of the hatch, there should be a panel with a tiny lever attached to the bottom frame. Flip the lever, and you will be presented with the command console.
Before the command console will accept any commands however, you will need to disconnect the steering wheel. I transferred a control chip to the wheel, which allows it to operate as the catalyst of operations. The house will not be able to go anywhere without the wheel being directly connected. The wheel itself can be used as a travel device if you would ever need to leave the house behind. Be warned though, the house is the heart of operation, if the house cease to work, then so does the wheel's ability to travel between realms.
Once the wheel has been removed, it should automatically release control to the machine itself. To remove the wheel, simply detach it from its mount.
To control the navigation from there, use this set of commands...”
The list of commands were simple and intuitive. It would allow them to reset the machine back to its factory settings, restoring functions he had disabled. It also listed navigation, and other technicalities.
“Well then,” Original Elsa said, “as soon as my Allen gets back, I suggest we take the house for a spin.”
The Drunk Allen's spatial awareness was equal to a rock. This made the Original Allen's stalking easy; however, he found it incredibly frustrating as the Drunk Allen's navigational skills was equally impaired by his poison of choice.
Just find your house already, he sighed. If only I had a proverbial rock to throw at you, idiot.
It wasn't until the fifth house that it seemed like he finally found his own. Even if Allen had never taken appropriate care of the house as instructed by his ancestors, he learned the huge difference between 'run down' and 'falling apart'. The front door hung from a single hinge and the broken front windows had makeshift covers in the form of nailed up translucent tarpaulin.
Better than just barring the windows with wood, I guess.
He approached the door and knocked on the door panel. There was no point in breaking the house further by risking a knock to the actual door.
“Allen.”
“What!” A yell came from inside.
“Can I come in?”
“No!”
“Come to the door then, we need to talk.”
Metal clinked and rustled from inside and shortly after, the Drunk Allen slammed his door open. He held a fresh bottle of whisky in his hand.
“What do you want!”
“From what I've seen, the current trend of our particular situation seem to come with more Liyas than the rest of us which had me concerned about your—no, our daughter.”
Drunk Allen slumped his shoulders.
“A-A-Are you suggesting I don't treat her right?”
“You tell me.”
For a short moment, he had the air of regret about him, but then he puffed his chest and shouted, “Go to hell!”
He started to wave his bottle around by its neck, and it eventually broke as he blundered to the side of the door panel. Some of the content from the bottle flew in Allen's direction which made him stagger away from the door.
“Calm yourself, it's ok to feel pain and regret. I understand, we all do! We're in this mess together, and we all want the same thing – to protect our family!”
“No you don't, none of you understand! She hates me and I lost her, alright? I lost my wife! I will never get her back!”
Allen moved away from the house and sat down on the blackness. To argue with a drunk was always fruitless, especially himself. Knowing his own stubbornness was not doing him any favors right now.
“Where is your Liya?”
The Drunk Allen twitched back and sat down on his porch. He casually threw the broken bottle neck and it cracked once more as it landed on the strange black ground.
“I wish I could see the stars,” he said. “One last time.”
Allen didn't respond to that; he wasn't sure what it meant.
“There's a key, it's in the lock. I don't care anymore.”
Allen had been allowed inside the broken down house. Hidden under the stairs, he found a vault door with the aforementioned key in its lock. He turned it and carefully opened the door. Theories crossed his mind, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. No matter how bad things got, he couldn't imagine himself falling so low he would do something atrocious.
“You take it from here,” Drunk Allen said from the stairs. Along the staircase wall was a long rack of bottles. He plucked a fresh new whisky bottle, then headed upstairs.
Behind the door was a Liya, tied up and gagged to a chair. She responded with fright to his presence.
“What has he done!” Allen said in a low voice and immediately removed the gag. Her first response was to try and bite him.
“Don't do that!” he said. “I know you don't know what's going on, but trust me, you're safe now.”
“Safe? ...Safe?! Let me go already!”
“Calm down, I will release you shortly, just don't do anything stupid when you're let loose.”
He untied the ropes, and as soon as she was free, she knocked him onto his ass and dashed for the door. He tried to grab her but it was too late.
“Ahhh!” she screamed from outside.
As Allen made his way out onto the porch, he saw her lying flat on the blackness. It would appear she had stumbled in her shock after discovering her new reality.
“Are you alright?”
“What the hell have you done to me! Is it the alcoholic vapor coming from your person making me see things? Did you drug me? What the hell is going on!”
“It's difficult to explain.”
“Try me.”
“If you come back inside, it will be easier to explain.”
“I'm never setting my foot back inside that house!”
He turned around to call for Drunk Allen to come outside, but just as he drew breath, a snap echoed from above the stairs. Allen raced to the door and froze before he made it all the way back inside, feeling a cold chill run down his spine. What he saw was a pair of feet dangled in view, twitching, yet the rest of the body obscured by the front wall. Allen quickly realized he had a choice, to save his other self, or let him fulfill his choice.
In truth, Allen had never made a meaningful and personal choice for himself. He had never been allowed to. Being stuck in this void spoke for his lack of choice in life louder than anything ever before. He was certain every situation which lead to something good in life had been pure fluke, circumstantial at most. Drunk Allen had shown his lack of choice on how to remain by Elsa's side, she had made that choice for him. Now, possibly for the first time, he had taken matters into his own hands. He had made a choice. He had chosen to kill himself with a rope. If Allen attempted to save his life, then once more, choice would had been removed from the equation.
No, Allen thought, we are both making our choices here, this is the crossroads which we will walk together, me and myself, and I choose to leave him to his fate.
He turned his head away, then quietly, closed the door.
“Follow me,” he said in a solemn tone to the rather fraught Liya. He didn't want her to know what had just transpired and so he guided her on the path back to what remained of his home.
Elsa was getting impatient.
Where did he go?
She looked across the open space and saw an Allen and Liya approach not too far off.
“Honey, is that you?” she shouted.
He waved to her in agreement. The Liya with him was looking around herself like a spooked animal, frightened out of her wits.
“Moving away with your mother, leaving your father all on his own,” Allen pondered. “I wonder if I would have retreated to the bottom of a bottle myself.”
The Anxious Liya stopped in her steps.
“I mean! I would definitely not go crazy like he did and resort to kidnapping!” Allen said as he flailed his arms for emphasize. “...But I would certainly struggle to deal with the depressive reality of losing the two people who makes my life move forward through time. The two who makes it all worth it.”
She warily began to move again.
“We'll get you back to your Mom, don't worry.”
“Honey,” Elsa called out, “could you hurry up? We've been waiting on you so we can take the house out for a spin!”
“Yes, dear!”
He turned to the Anxious Liya, said something, then jogged to the house.
As soon as he stepped onto the house platform, Elsa maneuvered from the hatch to the console and activated it. She had done so once before, and it had worked as advertised. Original Liya stood ready at the wheel, and on Elsa's order, detached it. Once the wheel was detached, she input the reset command into the console, and soon after, the very fabric of space itself began to warp out of shape.
All the houses began to spin free in the air and slamming into one another; and so did all the Allens, Elsas and Liyas too. They twisted and swirled through the void. Those who still hid inside their houses were sucked out, those trying to make an escape were flopped high up in the air like ragdolls. Each and every one of them would slam into their counterparts and then disappear, leaving a single physical existence in its wake.
It was as if matter and antimatter had finally found their match, except the particles were not microscopic, they were whole houses and human bodies. The eradication of existence happened at an ever increasing rate.
Only one House, one Allen, one Elsa, and one Liya remained.
Liya groggily made her way up on her feet. She couldn't think clearly; she didn't know what had just happened. She was scared and confused, not just of what had happened, but by the strangeness of her mind.
A few paces off, she saw her father. He too was just about to get up on his feet and held a hand to his throbbing head. She assumed he felt the same way she did. Behind her, Elsa too was trying to get up.
“What went wrong?” Liya mustered to her mother.
“I don't...”
“I feel mighty ill.”
“Concussion? No... I...”
Allen wobbled his way near and groaned, “What happened?”
“I...” Elsa sat back down, her head spinning.
Liya and Allen followed suit. Neither of them could stand properly.
“It feels like there's a ball bouncing around where my brain used to be, I can't think straight,” Liya said as she curled up like a baby on the cold blackness. “It hurts.”
“I think I know what is happening to us,” Elsa said then laid a reassuring hand on her daughter, “but it doesn't explain why it's happening.”
“Bring it,” Allen said, he was crawling towards them now. “I need to understand this sensation; it's freaking me out.”
“Try to remember,” Elsa said, “our first kiss.”
Allen did as his wife requested and his head began to hurt immensely. What his memory presented him with was not just the kiss at the dance, but numerous kisses in numerous locations. Yet his feelings were all one and the same. The feeling of a sweet first kiss.
“Wow.” he gasped.
“I believe all our respective consciousness have melded into one,” Elsa explained.
He nodded.
“But why? We established it's a multiverse, not fragmented timelines.”
“My head is feeling better,” Liya said. “It's confusing though. How will I know what's real and what's not? How will I know which version of me is me?”
“It's all you, in a way,” Elsa said. “Maybe that's enough.”
Liya thought about it. Perhaps her mother was right, she wanted to experience life, a life that wasn't locked to the Barlow house. Well, she had gotten that, yet now she had more. She had the collective experiences of all versions of her who had been here in the void. Lifetimes of experiences. Was she still the Liya who met with Earl, or was she the accumulation of all Liyas into one being? Or perhaps one of the many Liyas? But beside that, in what universe did she now belong? Or perhaps it wasn't multiple universes, but fragmented timelines, and all she had to do was plop back into the one she had left?
Allen began to think about his death, he saw himself grab a bottle, take a full swig, then tie a prepared noose around his neck.
“Argh!” he screamed, wrapping his hands around his head as if protecting it from walls folding in.
“What's wrong honey?”
“Something bad happened before. It's part of me now. I will have to learn to control it...Somehow.” He nodded reassuringly, mostly for his own benefit.
“What do you mean?”
“Please, I don't want to talk about it or pursue those thoughts further.”
“Okay,” Elsa replied and reached soothingly for her husband.
They all stayed still for a while, trying to control their thoughts and come to terms with the experience.
“So, what now?” he asked. “We need to find a way back.”
“There's just the one house left. We should try to operate the wheel before we do any more through the terminal. See if it works.”
They got up on their feet, their minds still floating in a strangeness. They made it into the house, closed the door, then turned the wheel.
As the Barlow's opened the door, they found themselves in a dark place once more. This time, however, there was a distinct lack of light and a smell of dust in the air. Liya found her smartphone still snuggly stuffed in her back pocket. She activated the flashlight. Her mother did the same.
As they ventured out through the door and onto the porch, they noted a cemented ground. There was no draft nor stars, just black. They each agreed it had to be the insides of a building.
Allen held tightly to his wife's hand and followed out into the room.
“Echo!” Liya shouted, a short moment later it echoed back.
“Large building,” Elsa said. “Find a wall opposite of me, and we'll see if we can find ourselves a light switch.”
They didn't have to walk far until they found a wall each, Liya on one end, Elsa and Allen on the other. They began to follow the walls and after a few minutes of careful procedure, Liya found a big lever attached to a power grid box. She flipped it. A thumping sound of fluorescent lamps crackled and the interior revealed itself to be a large hangar-like structure with strange machinery neatly stacked in the center of the unnecessarily large empty space, with desks and cabinets littering along the walls.
At one of the desks, there was a slumped white lab coat covering a husk next to a set of computers. They approached it.
“Been dead for a very long time,” Allen pointed out. “It's withered to the bones.”
He lifted one of the arms of the coat, and a gun dropped from its hand. On closer inspection, whoever this had been, had made quick business of their life. His thoughts drifted back to a bad memory just moments ago. The memory of the noose around his neck, and the last thoughts before stepping off the railing. The tight rope strangling him, giving him the mercy he wanted―Death. Allen could vividly remember the last few minutes of his life: suffocating, choking, blood rushing, eyes burning, body swinging like a pendulum, and his life flashing before his eyes as his consciousness faded into oblivion. It frightened him how he could almost sense a thankfulness for allowing himself to commit suicide, yet another part of him would never had even considered such a fate. Elsa could see her husband's unease.
“Honey? What's the matter?” she rested a comforting hand on his arm.
“Nothing, dear. It's the headache from before. It'll go away soon.”
Elsa nodded then pulled the chair with the husk away from the desk, revealing a keyboard that hid beneath. She booted the nearest computer, and it came alive on the screen in front of the keyboard. The operative system was the Unix sort, possibly custom made for the operators, but thankfully not password protected. She used the keyboard to navigate to a video clip at the center of the desktop. The file name read: WATCH ME. As she clicked the file, a brunette wearing a white lab coat appeared on the screen.
“The Big Rip,” the woman said, likely the now dry corpse, “if you're watching this Earl, then be glad that you made it this far. We lost track of you soon after you went on your mission, but we know what you did, you bastard! If you want to put things right, you better do so as soon as you can, because the universe won't accept your nonsense. You're the most selfish asshole I've ever had the displeasure of meeting.
If you're someone else watching this, then I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do to stop it. The Big Rip is upon us, and if you're lucky, you'll have a few more years of life before it's game over.
You see, all matter of the universe, from stars and galaxies to atoms and particles, space-time and reality itself, is about to lose its integrity – to be torn apart in the cataclysmic event we call The Big Rip. The expansion of the universe has reached such heights, and at such rapid speeds, that soon, it will all be over. Nothing will be able to continue its existence when it happens, and it will happen soon.
In simple terms; we had devised a plan. A team of scientists – myself, my colleagues and the nefarious Earl Barlow—have managed to create a miniature universe. Our goal was to build a second mechanism inside this pocket of a universe and open a passage from here to there, channeling a stability between the two into a state of equilibrium. Just like if we have two bubbles, and the integrity of air seeps into the other at a rate in line with the expansion of space being generated in the first. The theoretical effect would have saved the universe, life, and everything else from certain doom. Yet, there was a catch.
A dead man's switch. Someone would have to manually configure the machine on the other side to keep the values in precision. Unfortunately for all of us, this could not be automated due to quantum uncertainty and as added security, for hell knows what reason, the device required Earl's DNA, indeed, his genetic imprint, in order to activate it. Once set up, the two universes would merge into an hourglass structure, a stable unit of impeccable balance, were the effects of spatial transfer would simmer indefinitely.
Earl Barlow nominated himself as the brave soul who would go down in history as the savior of existence itself at the cost of his own life.
We know that he did not complete his mission. We know that he managed to escape the pocket microverse before the transfer could be completed. We know that he doomed us all.
He used the technology on board to rig up an infinite amount of universes. He split our universe into multiple minor ones. Each universe will have an unequal spread of energy, and I bet you he took that into account. What it means is that, time flows differently, events play out differently, and the rate of expansion of each universe would hence vary on a scale so large he would be able to live out his life in a large number of them.
Unfortunately, many universes have already perished, and many more are to follow. This one in particular is on the brink of annihilation.
For this reason, Earl is the biggest most pompous narcissist to have been born. He is an asshole of reckoning. Destroyer of universes. He has already caused billions upon billions upon billions of deaths across his own made multiverse, and he is yet to cause more.
The only way for this to be reversed, is for the universes to be melded into one, to turn reality back into the one universe and the one man-made pocket-verse, and set the device on its task. To have Earl make the sacrifice that was required of him.
Alas, as you are watching this, unless you are Earl, I guess that is an impossibility. We cannot trace him. He has camouflaged the device, and reconfigured it for his own purposes.
I am sorry.
...So very sorry.”
The woman then raised a gun to her head then pulled the trigger.
Allen and Liya looked away from the horrifying scene on the screen. Elsa turned off the video shortly after.
“The Barlow House secret,” Allen said. “I thought I hated it before... But this? The truth of it all? I don't have the vocabulary to express how I feel.”
Earl stepped onto the platform. He waved a final farewell to the scientists and friends he would now leave behind, forever, as he walked towards oblivion.
He activated the machine, and it sent him into a black void.
After he made his readings and set the machine up for its purpose, he closed his eyes. He had long since come to terms made himself ready for the end. He would live on in legends and myths.
Headline, “Earl Barlow, the man who saved the universe.” It was a nice way to go, he thought.
It was time.
As the machine began to process the space between time and space, his life rushed in front of his eyes. He had left nothing behind other than a name. What good is a name when you're dead? What good is a legacy when there's no one to honor it? In time, a name withers and dies, fading like a canvas, slowly but surely. In time, his efforts would be seen as the invention of the wheel. Who remembers the inventor of the wheel? Who knows the name of the first firestarter? Who even knows the name of the inventor of our microchips? That one is even in the text books!
“No!” He bellowed into the emptiness. “This is not how I end!”
He ran to the hatch and ripped out a cable, he would rewire it later. It didn't stop the machine though, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. All he had done was unlock the navigations.
The space of the microverse had begun to expand at an accelerating rate, far beyond the little pocket that barely fit the machine. He could feel it tear at his being, the very molecules of existence separating. He had to act quickly before the entire place would rip him and the machine apart, setting the onset of equilibrium in progress, a self-maintained system of mechanics operating by the very laws of physics themselves.
He made his way to the terminal. He knew, if he could just get out of here in time, he could use what he had to splinter the universe into multiple instances of itself. It would create smaller similar versions of the one universe with an unpredictable consistency of time and space due to the already fragmented merge of energy between the two, but it would have to do. There would be enough universes for life to thrive in, not losing anything but space between space itself. There would be so many versions of him then, so many alternative lives, so many chances to set his existence into stone, to father a child, to leave proof behind.
He hit the command, which threw him off onto an Earth. He could feel his own existence, lagging behind, so many consciousness, ripped apart. It was a strange sensation, but it only lasted momentarily, until his one being melded with the universe it found itself in. All the billions of versions of himself would feel the same way. Singular. Well, save for the ones who ended up in a universe that was on the verge of destruction; but life came cheap in a multiverse, it didn't matter much if he lived or died in some of them, he would still exist, he would still have a chance to further his existence, to matter.
He began his customization of the machine.
“We have the machine,” Elsa said. “Earl's reconfiguration was probably the means to travel through the multiverse.”
“You're not saying we should...?” Allen asked.
“It is our responsibility.”
“But we don't even know where to begin,” Allen objected. “How to configure the machine! Even less how to get his DNA!”
She looked at him like the idiot he was for that last sentence. He considered her look for a moment.
“Ah.”
“If we don't, everything will cease to exist.”
Allen contemplated her words. Was this truly a choice? A choice that his great grandfather had originally made all those years ago? A choice that he had now inherited? No. His hands were tied, to sacrifice himself in favor of his daughter and wife was not a choice but yet another nature of the House Secret. To let the universe wither and die, his daughter and wife along with it? Or make the sacrifice so that they can live? Not a choice, he decided. Another trick, a remnant, left behind by Earl Barlow – the universe's most asinine man – then forced upon Allen once more.
“You're right, it has to be done and I will do it. For you, and for our baby girl.”
“We will need to do this together. I will manage the technicalities and you will provide your DNA. At least this way, we will leave a fighting chance for Liya.”
Allen was flabbergasted as he realized he wouldn't be able to even make that choice by himself. Once again, choice was taken out of the equation. He knew of no way to save his wife.
“What are you saying?” Liya asked.
“We need to make the sacrifice so that you can live.”
“I don't want that.”
“It's not up to you honey,” Elsa said. “Think of it as running away, just like you always wanted.”
Liya shook her head, tears welling up. “That's a bullshit thing to say and you know it. There has to be another way!”
“I'm sorry.”
“How will we get to the microverse now that the machine got us here?” Allen asked. “How will we meld the universes together?”
“With the reset we did, there should only be two sets of coordinates for it to go. Here, and the microverse. We should be able to configure the machine so that it attracts all the other houses from the multiverse into the microverse, just like how the wheel had originally thrown Liya into the version where Earl was still configuring the machine.”
“Alright.”
“Please, think about this!” Liya shouted. “Don't do this!”
“It has to be done,” Allen said as he embraced her.
“What about me!” she screamed with tears. A flash of memory graced her mind, a memory of things told when Allen... Died? He had said, 'No matter what happens, I will always love you and from now on, I will always be there for you, to protect you.' “Remember what you said! You said you would always be there for me! Please! Remember!”
“Oh honey, there is no other way,” Elsa said as she joined them and stroked her on the head as her daughter broke down crying.
“You can't do this! Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry for everything... Please... Don't go.”
Tears rolled down their cheeks. To say goodbye like this was something none of them had ever imagined. They remained in embrace of each other for an extraordinary amount of time.
“Farewell my child, know that I will always love you,” Elsa said as she pushed Liya off onto the concrete.
It was as if time almost came to a stop as she felt her hand slip off her mother's wrist.
“Be strong,” Allen said with a wavering voice.
“No please! Dad! This isn't fair! Don't leave me,” Liya begged as she crashed to the ground feeling faint. The grasp she had of her mother's wrist fully lost. Her constant tearful pleading and screaming fell upon deaf ears.
“I love you,” Allen said with a kind smile.
He and his wife both waved farewell from the door and then closed it with a lock.
“I love you both,” Liya whispered through her hiccups.
She had never felt this heartbroken before. Her parents were going to sacrifice themselves and she was powerless to stop them. Now alone, left to fend against the world on her own.
There was a loud sound like thunder followed by an almost invisible bubble of electricity wrapping around the house, then it suddenly vanished as if it was never there, air whipping up dust in the wake of the previously occupied space.
Liya froze and held her breath. She stared at the empty space. With nothing but her name, a smartphone, and the clothes on her body, she was now definitely all alone.
'Gone...' her mind echoed.
She wished it was all just a bad dream. She is going to wake up and it's going to be her birthday. She will tell her parents that she loves them with all her heart, it's going to be a fantastic day, and there's no such thing as the 'House Secret'.
“Liya, please wake up,” she pleaded and she pinched herself.
She turned to slapping her own face hard until her cheeks started to sting.
“No!” she screamed ballistically and broke down crying again until tears refused to come.
Liya could not tell how long she laid on the cold ground, exhausted and numb from all the crying. She took a few deep breaths and got onto her feet. Her legs felt weak but she could stand.
Staying here will resolve nothing, she thought. They aren't coming back.
Liya took a series of heavy steps to the large hangar gate. There was a human-sized door in the middle, she opened it, took a deep breath, then stepped through.
Earl hummed an old song. A song with passion from his ancient roots. A song that would dance in the wind of the old highlands and grace the everglades with spirits and courage.
“Scots wha hae wi~”
It had only been days since he slipped out of the microverse. He had hopes that he was one of those who would live a full life, yet he knew deep down that he might be one of the ill-fated. Despite the knowledge that other identical versions of himself would get to live on and die a humble death. He couldn't help but feel like part of him was still in regret. Regret not for the acts he had committed, acts that sealed the fate of the universe, but for those of himself that would soon find themselves at death's gate.
In a way, he felt it both pleasant and unsettling when that young lass prodded the machine. He thought for sure he had escaped the worst of it after asking the date from a local. But meeting her had meant two things: Other versions of himself had succeeded in their goal and left an annoying if not exceedingly charming legacy with a burning passion and fearlessness he admired. But it also meant that, whichever universe he now found himself in, it was doomed.
Time flowed in this microverse by a manner that was way out of scale. It was unpredictable and unstable. Meeting the lass, he understood how countless generations of his kin had already passed elsewhere.
Resentment boiled inside him. All the efforts. All the sacrifices. All the betrayals. Yet, this version of him, this one stray straw at the field, would never become ripe for harvest. Would never see a future with children and grandchildren.
It wasn't right. Not after the price he had paid. Not after giving his soul to the fate of nature. He did not consider himself a deity, he was merely enforcing the laws set by physics. Laws which had created the universe and now saw to unmake it. Why then, should he be punished? Why then, should he suffer?
No, he thought. I deserve life, I am Earl Barlow... I bloody make my own fate!
He used a strand of long and straight brown hair which he had found during Liya's visit. Instructing the part of the machine originally designed to authenticate his gene. Now it was repurposed to find her.
If he could get there, he would exist in a universe where the other him had long since perished. A universe without the potential for conflict of his own time stream. In such a universe, he could start anew and keep alive.
He activated the machine, and it warped him through the plane of realities. What he saw was like streams of videos overlapping into one another, with a series dim lightning's binding them together like a flip show. Soon, the machine had locked onto its target. When it came to a stop, he hurriedly stepped outside then began to lightly jog along a road which to him seemed far too familiar. Daffodil seeds were caught by the wind of his arrival when air was displaced, and it flew around him in an almost magical manner.
As he walked down the road, it led him to a building which he thought he would never lay eyes upon again.
My old research facility, he thought as his stomach twisted. Why?!
He turned back, and his jog went into a sprint. He ran as fast as he could, he didn't know why he was there, but he had his suspicion. If he could get back to his machine in time, maybe he could escape into a different time stream, a different life, anything would be better than here! This place had the same fate as the one he had just left, and it had angry people looking for him on top of that predicament.
Just as he reached the machine, what he had feared, happened. It vanished with a low hum of lightning before he could touch the porch. Once more, daffodil seed began to swirl in the air. He got down on his knees, hope escaping out of his mind.
Did they find a way to track me down? he thought. But then, how did the machine bring me here? I'm certain that strain of hair belonged to the lass, did it not? It should have brought me to her, not ...here?
Stranded, he thought. In a universe on the brink of destruction? In a universe where I'm wanted dead rather than alive?
“I give up,” he whispered into the wind. “You win...”
He looked towards the direction of the facility, awaiting the end. Yet what he saw, was a brown haired lass emerging at the curve of the horizon.
A smile began to form on his lips.