Chapter 9.1 - Superpositioned Realities

She dreamed of summer again that night. In her dreams it was always summer in her grandparents’ garden, warm and fragrant and buzzing with bees. The cattails around the pond swung gently in the breeze, catching the sunshine every now and then and turning from tan to gold. 

Here and there the landscape sparkled and Claire couldn’t tell whether the little glimmers were fireflies or drops of dew catching the light but the overall effect was startling, like the entire garden had suddenly been infused with light.

Enchanted, she turned around to take in the whole image and saw all of them waiting there, smiling, waiting for her.

There was a young woman standing next to the tall man, a woman she’d never seen before but recognized anyway. She looked blissfully happy as if in her entire existence she had never known suffering.

“Mother?”

The young woman smiled and stretched out her hand to reach Claire’s and when their fingers touched the latter recognized the jolt of the little fire she had experienced in the garden earlier that fall. They didn’t speak any words.

“You haven’t aged.”

The young woman shook her head smiling.

“You look happy.”

A nod followed.

“Is this why you left?”

The young woman nodded again and then looked intently in Claire’s eyes to convey her message. Claire understood it and looked down at her hands: the tips of her fingers were still smudged with shimmery dust.

The morning sunshine hit her eyes and woke her up abruptly.

“Rise and shine sleepy head! You’ve got a lot to do before the guests arrive.”

Grandmother had drawn the curtains to let in the light of day. She gave Claire a little nudge in passing to make sure the young woman was awake before she rushed to the door.

“Wake up, wake up! We don’t have a lot of time!”

Claire washed up and got dressed, still half asleep and in bad need of that first cup of coffee and shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen.

She couldn’t help look at her hands, trying to make out any trace of glimmer on the tips of her fingers.

“Maman,” she started abruptly. “I think I dreamed about my mother.”

“You saw Louise? She came to you?” Grandmother asked eagerly. “What did she look like, was she alright?”

“Yes,” Claire was taken aback by this avalanche of questions. “She looked so young! She looked much younger than me. How old was she when she left?”

“You were a baby,” Grandmother avoided the answer. “Did she look happy?” she barely dared to ask.

“Yes, she looked very happy.”

“I always worried about that. Things had been so tense around here at that time I always worried she just left with them to escape her troubles. I have waited all these years but she never returned, I feared they wouldn’t allow it, I feared that something really bad had happened to her, you have no idea how I worried. Was she alone?”

“No.”

“Oh, dear. Your grandfather is going to be furious about that. On second thought he is your father after all. I’m glad they patched things up.”

“He who?”

“The tall man,” Grandmother clarified. “Isn’t that who you were talking about?”

“So he really is my father.”

“Unfortunately,” Grandfather interjected from the doorway. “I blame you, you know,” he pointed at Grandmother. “You encouraged them.”

“I did nothing of the sort, it was meant to be.”

“I’m so fed up with this malarkey about predestination! Nobody is meant to do anything. We all choose.”

“She asked me to come live with them,” Claire blurted suddenly.

The room went deadly silent. After the initial shock wore off Grandfather wanted to protest but Grandmother raised her palm to demand silence.

“And what have you decided?”

“I…don’t know, maman. They all look so happy and young and they seem to live in perpetual bliss but…”

“But what, child?”

“I don’t belong there.”

“How do you know that?”

“I can feel it.”

Another pregnant pause followed.

“Good. Now that we got that out of the way, finish your breakfast, I need you to help me with the appetizers. You have no idea how much stuff we have to do today.”

Claire gulped the rest of her coffee and walked to the back room to bring the pastry dough that was left out there to chill over night. As she passed by the mirrors an impulse impossible to restrain made her reach out to the mirror and her hand got suddenly pulled onto the glass surface as if drawn by magnets. 

Claire got dizzy and slightly disoriented as she watched the slow duplication of her world happen right in front of her eyes and she found herself existing in a weird superposition of two universes, open to her waking awareness the same way the real world had always been, the one she had taken for granted her entire life. She felt her mother’s hug simultaneously with her grandfather’s tugging on her sleeve to get her away from the mirror.

“Get out of the doorway!” Grandfather pulled her back. As she did, Claire felt her hand slowly peel off the mirror, like it had been Velcroed to it and the world beyond sight gently vanished. Before she turned around to face her grandfather she caught another glimpse in the looking glass and noticed she had linden flowers in her hair. She could still smell their fragrance and the feel the warm wind in her face.

“Do you want to get stuck on the other side? If you go you can never come back,” Grandfather chided genuinely worried.

“Why are you telling her stuff that isn’t true?” Grandmother intervened.

“Louise never came back!”

“Louise didn’t want to come back,” Grandmother stood her ground.

“Are you going to bet Claire’s safety on it?”

“She’s in no danger! She was never in any danger! Do you think her parents would hurt her?”

“Could you two please stop fighting? The guests are going to arrive soon and it would be very confusing if they dropped right in the middle of this.”

“Did you get my pastry dough?” Grandmother demanded as she abandoned the battlefield to go back to the kitchen. Claire obediently followed up on her request and went to retrieve said item from the back room.

“Human folk and their superstitions,” Grandmother grumbled, working the dough with her fingers,  “it’s a miracle our kinds have managed to make alliances and care for this land for so many generations. Seventy years I’ve been married to the man, tending to his every whim, and he still doesn’t trust me. Listen to me, Claire: if you want someone who will hear you, you better find yourself a kindred. Humans are deaf as doornails.”

“That’s right, marry her off to your kin why don’t you, so that this curse can continue,” Grandfather grumbled.

“You don’t look cursed to me,” Grandmother gave him a sharp look. He gestured irate and went out to the garden to clear the path for the guests.

“He is still a little sensitive about Louise,” Grandmother excused him.

“Maman, where is their world?” Claire finally managed to gather herself after the unexpected experience.

“I think you got the answer to your own question,” Grandmother smiled. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“It’s right here,” Claire muttered confused. “But that’s not possible, it’s not possible for to worlds to exist in the same space!”

“Why do you say that?” 

“It’s against the laws of physics, for one,” Claire attempted an explanation.

“You should brush off on your science, bebelle. That is demonstrably not true.”

“So how come we don’t experience both worlds happening simultaneously all the time?”

“I don’t know, dear. I think they’re slightly out of phase with each other and only meet at the waters, which are like hubs in reality, doorways of sorts. When you stand in a doorway you’re in both rooms at the same time, right?”

“Or neither,” Claire frowned to the unpleasant thought.

“Or neither,” Grandmother conceded. “You can’t act upon the worlds but you can still see them both.”

“So, how do you choose what world you’re in?”

“You are where you think you are.”

“Maman, what happens if I leave the door open?” Claire finally got the courage to ask the question which had plagued her entire childhood and young life.

“What happens if you leave a door open in the real world?” Grandmother chuckled softly. “Stop worrying so much, child, you’re going to get wrinkles.” As if prompted, the rolling pin skidded over the pastry and created a multitude of tiny folds. Claire sighed, rolled the dough back into a ball and started over.