©2025 SammyC

“Anaïs and I are not happy about having to do this, Mrs. Tolliver, but Genevieve’s behavior is a sign of either a serious medical condition or, sadly, nefarious designs by you and your husband on the poor child’s inheritance.” Charles Artaud waved off Mom’s attempts to interrupt him. “We’ve filed a formal complaint with The Department of Child Protection and Permanency today, and with our company’s – how shall I put it – clout in The State House…”

While Mom attempted to remonstrate with Charles’ accusatory diatribe, Anaïs tried to take my hand but I shrank away from her, angry at their obstinate meddling in our…that is, my life. She tried to lock eyes with me and spoke to me in French, her tone one of genuine concern.

“Chère fille, tu peux me le dire. Est-ce que ta mère t'oblige à dire ces choses ? Charles et moi pouvons vous aider. Vous pouvez nous faire confiance. Nous craignons que vous soyez retenu contre votre volonté, sciemment ou non.”

I shook my head even as I was still trying to comprehend what she was saying, relying on my high school French.

“Dear girl, you can tell me. Is your mother forcing you to say these things? Charles and I can help you. You can trust us. We are worried that you're being held against your will, knowingly or not.”

I shook my head even more vigorously but didn’t reply as Charles continued his harangue of a speech.

“With the Department’s assistance we’ve arranged for a competent neuropsychologist to examine Gigi. Someone with elite credentials. She comes with the highest recommendation from my wife’s cousin who is the chair of the Neurology department at Paris Descartes University. She’s world-famous. Alors, Mrs. Tolliver, please stop and listen to me. This can only be for the benefit of our dear girl here. Her precious memories, her feelings for our Noah. She has such a wonderful life ahead of her. I’m sure you and Nick can see that, Sara.”

“I don’t want to see another doctor. I’m fine. And I’m in my right mind, thank you for your concern…”

“Well, it might be helpful to see this highly recommended doctor, Gigi,” Mom said, drawing each syllable out with great effort.

“Don’t be cowed by them, Mom. They’re just empty threats. Uncle Richie has pull in the system too.”

“Yes, your brother, Sara. Our lawyer discovered the kind of pull he had with the Superior Court that granted custody of Genevieve to you so quickly. I dare say he and his ‘contacts’ in the courthouse might be in a bit of trouble. I wouldn’t count on Professor Perrin riding to the rescue on a white charger this time…”

“There’s no need for exchanging recriminations,” Anaïs interceded. “We’ll all be happy if Gigi can have her memory restored. And her life too.” She stood up and took Charles’ arm. “Come on, Charles, let’s take our leave. We’ve said what we’ve come to say.” She turned to me, took my right hand, palm face up, and placed the jewel box that held the promise ring Noah had given me Saturday evening in it. “Noah understands, dear. He still loves you with all his heart…as I know you do him as well. À bientôt.”

They kissed me on both cheeks, shook Mom’s hand, and walked out of the house. Stunned, Mom and I were still sitting there in silence 20 minutes later when Regina and Nick returned home, big smiles on their faces, waving their bowling ball bags like pom poms.

“We won! We aced all three rounds! Right, Dad?” Regina hugged her stepfather. He beamed at her in return, raising his bowling bag triumphantly in the air.

“Who knew my daughter would be a far better bowler than my son?” Nick laughed raucously but was met with our stony faces. “Hey, who died? What’s going on? The TV’s off. Isn’t “Dancing With the Stars” on tonight?”

I ran from the room, stifling sobs as the tears began to flow.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Gigi?” Nick asked.

“Sit down, Nick,” Mom quietly replied.

I waited for Regina to finish her account of her and Nick’s winning exploits at the Rossington Lanes. I smiled in acknowledgment at certain points in her narrative, although bowling with Nick as Reggie back in my world was a barely tolerable chore. My mind, to be honest, was more preoccupied with the situation I found myself in. A situation begging for a solution.

“No homework, Gigi?” She turned in her chair away from her desk, looking at me as I sat on the bed, my face framed by my hands, staring straight ahead.

“No. Well, I’ve already read the chapters that were assigned—”

“That’s right. I keep forgetting. I’ve got a girl genius for a sister.”

“Hardly.”

“Gigi, I should thank you.”

“For what?”

“Ever since you came into my life…our lives…I’ve never felt so happy. And accepted…as a girl. Look at me now. I’m a cheerleader. I was just named Homecoming Queen. And George wants to start dating me. Even Nick accepts me as his daughter. People like me! They really like me!”

“I wish my life was going as well as yours—”

“What happened tonight with the Artauds?”

After I gave Regina a thumbnail sketch of the situation, she sat down next to me on the bed.

“So what’s the problem? After all, you’ll turn 18 in a few months. You’ll be a free agent then. They can’t tell an adult what to do.”

“The Artauds can stir up a hornet’s nest of problems for Mom and Nick. And Uncle Richie! He could lose his job at the university. But the main thing is, either way this resolves itself, I’m stuck with living Gigi LeClerc’s life, whether I like it or not.”

“What’s so bad about that? A few months ago, I would have gladly traded lives with you. Gladly.”

I tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep, even as I tried my hardest not to disturb Regina next to me. Her quiet snoring told me I was successful.

I sifted through all the options I had. And realized after hours of staring at the ceiling that I only had one real option. It was then I decided what to do. Of course, I wouldn’t tell Regina or Mom and Nick. And Tom wouldn’t believe me anyway. No, only Uncle Richie Prime and 2.0 need to know. A calmness came over me as I resolved to put my plan into action. Then sleep happened, just like life, when you’re making other plans.

Nick had already left for work when Regina and I came down for breakfast. I apologized to Mom for not getting up earlier and making breakfast.

“That’s alright, honey. You can make breakfast Saturday morning. That way you can get your full beauty sleep in.” She laughed as she placed bowls of oatmeal in front of each of us. Artie played with his oatmeal rather than consuming it.

“Hey squirt, oatmeal’s good for you,” Regina said. “It’s important for fiber, right, Mom?”

“Your maternal instinct is showing, Regina,” Mom sighed, as she sat down to eat. “I’m already looking forward to you girls making me a grandmother. Isn’t that something? At least I’ll be the most well-preserved granny anyone’s ever seen.” She grinned and tapped her finger on the table in front of Artie, urging him to finish his oatmeal.

Regina and Artie received a peck on the cheek from Mom and raced out the door. I stayed behind and hugged Mom for a long minute. She noticed my eyes were reddening.

“What’s with the tears, Gigi? Are you worried about the Artauds? Don’t be. Things will turn out fine. Uncle Richie will see to it. Now, get going. You’ll be late for school.” She kissed my forehead and nodded reassuringly.

I looked back one last time but Mom was placing the bowls and cups into the sink.

“Hey, Gigi! We’re going to be late,” Artie shrieked from the driveway.

A block or two away from the school, I told Regina and Artie that I needed to stop by the stationery store to pick up a graph paper notebook to use in calculus class. I explained that I had misplaced mine. Regina gave me a look of incredulity but didn’t say anything. I bent down and kissed Artie on the cheek. He was surprised if not shocked that I did that. Before I turned to cross the street, I said with emotional emphasis, “Goodbye, Regina.”

“Hurry up. You’ll be late for home room already.”

Five minutes later, I was on a bus to downtown Rossington.

“Of course, you can hand-write a Holographic Will, sign it, and even have it witnessed and notarized. But you’re 17, Gigi, why would you need to do that?”" asked Bernie Frishberg, my attorney, as I sat across his desk from him.

“Just hand me a sheet of paper and a pen, Mr. Frishberg, I have my reasons.”

“You’re…you’re not thinking of doing something rash are you?”

“Rash? No. Not rash.” I started to scribble the verbiage I had looked up on my phone for a standard last will and testament. I would explicitly leave all my worldly goods to my blood relations: Mom, Regina, and Artie. I intentionally left out Nick, for whom there was no love lost. As I walked out of his office almost an hour later, Mr. Frishberg took me aside by the elevators.

“Whatever your reasons are for doing this, Gigi, please, please think long and hard before you do anything…final.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Frishberg. I’m not ending it all. I’m starting all over…again.” Before Mr. Frishberg could ask what I meant, the doors to the elevator opened and I walked through. I pressed the button for the ground floor and smiled at him as the doors closed.

I passed by the clothing stores on Rossington’s high street, looking at the dresses on display in the windows. There was one particular clingy, azure blue dress that would be perfect to wear on a date to a ritzy restaurant. A far better choice than the two times I’d been to that kind of restaurant wearing a majorette outfit. My hand grazed the window in front of the dress, resting longingly on the cool glass. I shook myself clear of these silly irrelevancies and walked on toward the White Castle at the end of Dowd Avenue. An early lunch before heading toward Uncle Richie’s house.

An hour and a half later, I knocked on the front door of Uncle Richie’s dilapidated bachelor mansion on the edge of town. I figured Richie Prime would be teaching class at the university while Richie 2.0 was probably at home, preparing for his departure from this universe. The door opened and Richie 2.0 appeared. I was certain it was 2.0 since he was wearing a brand-new tracksuit, rather than the ragged, old sweats Richie Prime normally wears in his leisure time.

“Gigi? School holiday?”

I entered the house and saw the dining table covered in sheets of paper almost obscuring a laptop, a printer, and what looked like a magnetometer. The heavy drumbeats, thumping bass, and chunky, metallic guitars of Tool streamed from bookcase speakers in the living room.

“Richie, have you found the vortex? Are you ready to depart?”

“Check and check. I was going to wait until the weekend. It’s supposed to warm up a bit by Saturday. The lake is freezing cold right now. Why do you ask? I was going to say goodbye before I left.”

“Can we leave today?”

“We? What’s with the we?”

I filled him in on my situation. It was hard to think, no less speak, with the volume at that level. Seeing my discomfort, he turned off the music. But after I finished, he wasn’t convinced I was making the right decision.

“Granted, having to live a complete stranger’s life instead of your own is…uniquely problematic. However, I must point out. This traveling across the multiverse isn’t an exact science. To be honest, I have no idea where we’d end up when we go through that vortex. Even the same vortex we emerged from. Now, in my case, unfortunately, I have no choice. But you…you’re a girl now. What you’ve always wanted, no?”

“Not this way, Richie. I’m willing to take the chance that I might not emerge in the next universe as a girl. Maybe I can transition just the same. It’s possible. Look at Regina.”

“Well, it’ll be nice to have a companion on the trip this time. I can go right now. Come on, Richie Prime left the car for me today. I guess we should tell him we’re leaving.”

“Let’s wait until dusk. There’ll be fewer people in the park and fewer possible witnesses.”

“You’re right. Have you had lunch?”

“White Castle on Dowd Avenue.”

“You still eat like a teenage boy, Gigi.”

“It’s almost 2:30! Can you drive me to the school? There’s someone I do want to say goodbye to.”

“Some adolescent Prince Charming? It’s no wonder, the way you look now. You were bound to attract admirers. Let me call Richie Prime. Then we can go see your Prince Charming.”

“Where have you been?” Tom grabbed my shoulders and seemed ready to start shaking me. “Half the town’s out looking for you. Your sister and mother are at home waiting for word.”

“It’s all right, Tom. I’m going home myself.”

“Good. I’ll walk you home.” He took out his phone.

“Don’t call my mom. Please, I’ve only got a few minutes. I wanted to say goodbye.”

“What’s going on?”

“You never believed me but it’s true. I’m from another universe. I was Reggie Perrin, the counterpart to Regina Tolliver in this world. I’m going back today. I mean, I’m going through the vortex again. And, hopefully, I’ll go back home…my home.”

“Gigi, you’re deluded. Regina told me the Artauds arranged for a new doctor to examine you. You’re…”

“Crazy? No, I’m as sane as you are. Look, whatever. It’s pointless to argue over this. I just wanted to tell you…”

“Yes?”

“I love you, Tom Verlaine. I’ll miss you terribly.” I put my arms around his neck and lifted myself up on my toes. Our lips mashed together. I moaned as he surrendered and kissed me back. Abruptly, I tore myself away and ran toward Richie’s car. Just before I jumped in, I turned to face Tom one last time.

“Don’t you dare forget me, Tom Verlaine.”

Richie and I stayed in the car, parked some distance from the entrance to Parsons Park, waiting for dusk. Every 10 minutes or so, a couple of police cruisers would drive by, probably looking for us. I’m sure Tom told the authorities what car I’d been driven away in. The difficulty in the police locating us was two-pronged: we were parked on a side street some blocks away from the park and we were in a dirty gray Honda Civic, the most common vehicle found on New Jersey streets. Nevertheless, we kept our heads down and wiled away the time drinking some awful tasting coffee from Richie’s thermos.

Sundown came at 4:45 and we carefully stepped out of the car. Making sure the coast was clear, we made our way to the park’s entrance. As we had hoped, the park was pretty much deserted. My heart almost stopped a couple of times when the random police cruiser made another drive-by. I could swear Winnie’s dad was at the wheel the last time. But in the foggy darkness, wearing dark clothing, we eluded detection. We hoped.

Using the readings on his magnetometer, Richie located the vortex we would use to travel the multiverse at the edge of the lake. He exhaled and his breath formed a fleeting, misty cloud. He took my hand.

“Ready, Gigi?” I nodded and we marched into the water. Just as we stepped in, we heard voices behind us. We turned and saw in the crossfire of flashlights, the dramatis personae of my sojourn in this alternate universe. Among the shouting voices, we could see Mom, Regina, Nick, Uncle Richie, Tom, George, and Deputy Sheriff Schlitter, urging us to come back. Come back! But, instead, we turned into the depths of the lake and the water topped our heads. I blacked out amidst the sensation of falling, falling, falling…