Going Out

Going Out

          It always felt the same-a weird floaty feeling, pushing through space, and then coming to a sudden forward stop. When he stopped, he inevitably found himself someplace that did not belong to his reality, yet he remained the same in appearance and personality.

            He remembered the first time he'd been caught going out well. He'd been about four years old. His mother had come to check him during his nap time. She'd sensed that his sleep was unusual and in a panic shaken him. The jarring to his body forced him to come back. When he'd opened his eyes to find his mother crying over him, he'd said, "Don't cry mama. I was just going out."

             Her eyes had widened and she gripped him firmly by his shoulders, "You mustn't ever do that again. It's not safe. Sometimes...sometimes we get lost. Promise you won't anymore."

He had promised. When he remembers the look on her face as he promised, he realizes that she had known that the promise was an empty one.

            He'd kept his special ability from creating further incident in his life until he reached the age of ten. On that particular occasion, his father's new wife had found him in the living room of their new home in his father's Lazy Boy chair. She'd called to him several times. When he failed to respond she'd called 911 and then his mother. His father had been out of town and his mother's commute took her a good hour and a half out of his immediate vicinity. When his mother arrived at the hospital, Vera, his stepmother, was sobbing and asking why did this have to happen and his mother was told that he had entered an unexplained coma but he appeared to be stable.

            He'd awakened to find her sitting next to his bedside looking a little sad and more than a little perplexed. They didn't really talk. It had already been said. She called the doctor to check him and had him released to her care. He didn't want to see his mother look that way again. That was the last time he'd been caught

            Until now, that is. His desperate wife awaited him at home and his daughter, Liza, remained lost in time and space.

He'd discovered that she shared his ability several months ago. He'd discovered it after the accident. She had been riding home from a little league baseball game when it happened. It began to rain as the bus entered the freeway. Five minutes later, the bus hit an oil slick and span out of control into an embankment. Liza had fractured her spine and lost the use of her legs.

             A few weeks after she'd left the hospital, he'd come to visit Liza in her room. He'd found her propped up on pillows with her eyes closed. She appeared to be barely breathing then he noticed that she also appeared to be smiling.  He sat down on the edge of her bed his hand pressing into the frilly pink comforter as he balanced himself. He smoothed her bangs across her forehead.  As soon as his fingertips brushed her forehead, he got the going out feeling. He found himself standing next to her at an amusement park watching a roller coaster ride. She had turned to smile at him then taken his hand and they raced to be among the next group of people to ride the coaster.

            She didn't seem to find anything unusual about the situation. He in turn was not surprised by her ability to walk; he had quickly discovered that although he abandoned his body to his reality when going out somehow he manifested another at his destination. He looked and felt the same. The elements that changed were the people, animals, fauna, places and the rules of the social order. He could be seen, heard, and physically interact with all of the people or entities that lived wherever he stopped. He also learned that injuries did not carry over from one space to another, but they remained whenever he returned to that space.

           "So how long have you been doing this?" he'd asked as they walked among the people and the rides.

         "Oh, since forever Daddy," she'd said between bites of the ice cream cone he'd gotten her.

          Then she'd paused, looked at him and stated very seriously, "It makes things easier Daddy."

           After this, he and Liza began going out together on a regular basis. His wife knew about his ability but he hadn't been able to share it with her and his mother had always hidden her ability even though he knew that she had it. So he indulged his daughter and himself, they traveled.

            Liza named the places they visited: Land of Polka Dot Trees , Upside Down Hats, Talking Dogs Land .......

            This last trip had been different. They'd gone back to the amusement park where he'd first found her going out. The day had been great but the end had been different. She had given him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before they entered the hall of mirrors.

          "I love you Daddy," she had sung out before running into the building. They laughed as they watched their bodies stretch and shrink and waver in form. Then she ran to another mirror and then she was gone.

            He didn't know how but she had learned to break away from him despite the physical connection of their joined hands in their reality. He searched all of her favorite places before returning home defeated. He found the note under her pillow a few days later as he rearranged her inert body. It said: "Dear Mommy and Daddy, Please, understand. It makes it easier. Love, Liza."

           So here he was, floating in search of his daughter--wishing that he had paid greater attention to his mother's words, "Sometimes...sometimes we get lost."

©2005 Desiré Hendricks