Um, hello? Who are you?
The voices from the kitchen shriek in fear. Loudly they protest, “Who are you? Where have you taken us? What do you want with us? Don't come in here!!” They spout in rapid succession queries and demands, both confused and upset. Diego and Jamish are likewise confused and frustrated their evening has been interrupted. Come out! Leave through the front door. I want to see if you're stealing anything!
“Stealing,” cries Penelope. “Stealing what? Your dishes? Uncooked food? We were just at our house and now we're here. How long have you had us here? It was 8:00 just a minute ago,” noticing the microwave,“and now it's 7! How long?!”
We haven't had you at all! You just started talking in our kitchen!
Jamish calmly lowers his arm. He puts his hand on Diego's shoulder and whispers, “What if she can teleport too?”
Poof
“Seriously? Poof, whatever. What if she's like you and she was on the East Coast or something. She doesn't sound like she's from around here.” He then calls out to the intruders, “This is going to sound weird, but what day is it?”
“What do you mean what day is it?”
“Like, what's the date?”
“Last I remember, it was Friday. The 19th I think.”
“It still is. You were on the East Coast, right? Well, you're not anymore. Ever been to Memphis? That's where you are. My name is Jamish and I think you might be like my friend Diego. But why did you come here? How did you come here?”
“Your friend? How am I like your friend? It can't be the 19th, it was just 8 o'clock!!”
It still is, just not here. Look, it took me some getting used to. First time I went to Fiji by myself it was middle of the night. I had to do math for where I would be going.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”
Poofing.
“Oh man, I am not into any of this. I'm going to call the cops!”
Okay, but you're trespassing.
“You kidnapped us!”
Not according to the building security cameras. Although, maybe I don't want to use those as evidence, they might prove I only ever come home.
Qisha puts her hand on Penelope's shoulder. They lock eyes for a moment and Qisha shows her her phone. The screen is pulled up to a search of the current day and time. Locating her GPS signal it displays current day and time in Memphis, Tennessee as 8:04 PM, January 19th. The image holds for a moment before the phone dies. Penelope's eyes begin to slowly fill with tears. Qisha calls out, “We're coming out.” Penelope grabs tightly onto her cropped jean jacket mouthing 'NO' as she fights back tears. “We're coming out. Don't even try ANYTHING!” Hand in hand, Qisha leads Penelope out into the hall connecting the kitchen with the living room and slowly walks passed the doors closed between them. As they walk, Qisha opens and peeks into each hoping they lead outside. One opens to a small broom closet with a standing ironing board and an affixed iron, a broom, a mop and some cleaners. The next door leads to a small bathroom with a shower opposite a basin next to a full length mirror opposite a toilet. Bothered by the mental image of staring yourself in the eye as you do your business, she twists her face in disgust. She closes the door and moves onto the third door which opens to Jamish's room. The tidy minimalist room has a bed, a waist high dresser and a desk with a laptop on it. Under the desk she can make out an exercise ball where a chair should be. Defeated, she closes the door and they slowly make their way to the living room.
Diego eyes them both as they peer through the doorway at the end of the hall to reach the living room. In a moment of anger, confusion and amazement, Diego calls out, I know you! You're the bartender. Then one I fell on. What are you doing in my house?! How did you get here?
“How did I get here? How did you get here? Me here? How did you get ME here?!”
I didn't! I was just playing some games, look, it's still on pause, and you showed up in my kitchen. Right when Jamish got here. You got here. Everyone got here at the same time. Is your stomach hurting?
“Don't change the subject! Why did you kidnap us?”
I didn't! We didn't. Nobody kidnapped anybody. What do you remember?
“We were talking about going out and we had our bottles of Prosecco and we decided to pregame at Qisha's house-
“Damnit, why'd you say my name?”
“I'm sorry. Her house. And I grabbed her hand to tell her she's my best friend and then next thing I know my stomach is in knots and we're in your kitchen. Now, I've been nice up until now, but I am going to curb stomp you if you don't let us go.”
Fine! Go, but empty your pockets first.
“No.”
“Girl, just do it. Let's get out of here.”
You seemed so nice at that bar. Why would you come here and steal from me and threaten me?
“You kidnapped us!”
HOW? IT'S STILL THE SAME DAY YOU REMEMBERED!
“I don't know! I just know you did. Look, we're leaving.”
“Diego, show her.”
Hesitant, Diego clenches his fists and bites down hard. Confusion and complacence fight for control of his mental state. Fine. Diego slowly walks to the furthest part of the room from the front door. Here, I'll get the door. And in an instant, he poofs to the front door. Silence falls over the room. Jamish and Penelope wince as their stomachs slowly adjust from the turning. Qisha, mouth agape, stares blankly at Diego standing at the front door with his hand on the knob. Her eyes well and a single tear rolls down her left cheek and pauses at her jaw line before letting go and harmlessly falling to the floor.
“How did you - ?”
I don't know. I just started one day. In September. Which of you two can poof? When did you learn?
“We can't. At least I can't. Penny, can you?”
“No! September though? I've been having stomach problems since then.”
“Me too. I think that's when Diego first jumped. I didn't even find out til December. Makes sense though.”
“How did we get here though if you can't and I can't, Penny?”
“I don't know.”
Maybe you can. Look, it's easy. Just clear your mind and think of some place you want to be. You live in New York, right? Just think of home. Look at your watch and then again when you get there.
Penelope looks down at her rose gold colored watch with an ivory band. The hands are still, and it reads 8:01. “Not again.”
“Is it dead?” Jamish looks down at his watch. “Mine too.”
Qisha looks down at her watch, which was little more than an accessory to her outfit. She wore watches seldomly, and when she did, they accented the pieces she wanted them to and she paid them little mind otherwise. “Huh, so's mine. Though, I can't even say for sure it worked before I put it on this evening.”
Mine's not. I recently switched to a self-winding watch. I have to adjust it a lot, but it doesn't die, which is nice.
A collective, “Fuck you.” Rings out from the three as they glare in utter disgust.
Rude. Look, if you guys can't do what I can do, I don't know how you got here. Maybe we are drawn to each other? I don't know.
“Are you ladies hungry? I'm making my famous mashed potatoes and we have more than enough steaks to share.”
“I don't know why I am all of a sudden not as angry as I was, and I could eat. Quiche? You hungry?”
Yeah, please, stay. We can talk more about this or just eat and maybe play some board games.
“Girl, you're lucky I'm hungry. I'm going to drink this whole bottle of Prosecco. Do not try to stop me. Do not touch me. And I don't know how, but you are getting me home. Penny, you owe me one.”
It's settled! Weird. The whole day I knew there were going to be more people here tonight. I knew it.
“Did you bring us here?”
No. I swear, I have no idea how you got here. I mean, I'm glad you're here, but I don't know how you got here. I also don't know why all of a sudden, we are all just cool with this.
“Diego, you're probably right. We are all likely drawn to one another. You, Penny and I-”
“No. You may call me Penelope.”
“You, Penelope and I had knots in our stomachs. Maybe Qisha, right? Maybe Qisha ties us together? I don't know for sure, but as much as I've wanted to freak out about all of this, I have actually been pretty calm. Like, this is supposed to happen.”
“Why are you glad? You don't even know me. And I don't know you. I doubt I am anything to any of you. Pen, do you know this guy?”
“Not really. We met twice. He bumped into me pretty hard one day and then showed up at my bar.”
That was an accident! I poofed from on top of the Empire State Building and I was too high and landed hard and rolled into you. I swear that was an accident!
“Yeah, sure, but why me? You could've landed anywhere, why behind me!?”
I don't know, I just looked ahead and then poof, hence the name, there I was.
“Wait, that's why you call it poofing? You're so weird, man.”
Dude, we have guests, don't be rude.
“Shut up. I'm going to the kitchen. I'm tired of trying to wrap my head around all of this.”
I'll join you. You want a glass for your Persecco?
“Prosecco, and yes, that would be nice.”
What?
“It's called Prosecco, not Persecco.”
Fun, my mom does that. You want a glass for your persecalucious boozy mcboozerton?
“Not if it's a sippy cup.”
“Ha ha! She got you. There's aloe in the bathroom.”
Oh, is there? Fuck you very much for that info.
Diego retreats to the kitchen where Jamish has begun preparations for dinner. Chopping and salting potatoes, cleaning and seasoning the meat and pouring a generous serving of single malt whiskey. Diego retrieves two stemless flutes and takes them to the two ladies in the living room. Still standing and not completely sure they want to stay, they open their bottles of Prosecco and enjoy a few sips. The tension in the room has mostly dissipated. The slow metered breathing and the busy work Jamish is doing are the only sounds throughout the apartment. There is a soft clink of the glasses that can be heard in the kitchen. A sigh of relief washes over Diego and he sinks into his chair. In that very moment, the light of the bulb affixed to the kitchen ceiling is suddenly hidden and a shadow covers him. He looks up and locks eyes with Penelope. His stomach is in knots. This is only the second time he has felt something like this.
So, you can?
To be continued…