Traveller 02: John’s House

The address I’d been given took Drew and I to a small, neat house on Harper Street, the main road, as John had mentioned. I don’t know what I’d been expecting; maybe a sprawling mansion full of echoing empty halls, or a dark garage at the back of a huge property overgrown with vegetation. In any case, the clean porch was a welcome sight as we ascended the stairs to the door.

I’d called John the day before, and he’d agreed happily to my terms: the only way I’d meet his grandfather at their house was if Drew accompanied me. John had obliged, but he’d stressed that while we talked, Drew couldn’t be involved in the conversation, either contributing or listening. Drew hadn’t been thrilled about the idea, but it was better than nothing.

Everyone was in agreement, so there we were, standing at John’s door.

Being a Saturday, Drew didn’t have work or any other prior engagements. A light drizzle covered everything in a wet sheen, though the rain wasn’t powerful enough that we needed anything other than hooded coats to keep us warm.

Before I could knock on the door, Drew pulled a small piece of paper slotted between the jambs. ‘The door is open. Please let yourself in,’ he read.

I shrugged and followed the directions. Only two steps inside, I stopped.

The entry room was small and cosy, sparsely furnished with only a small table and a set of drawers for storage. It was neat and clean – matching the outside – but not just like it had been tidied recently; there was no clutter or even decoration. No art or photos hanging on the walls, no trinkets on top of any surfaces. Minimalist, like a display home.

That wasn’t what stopped me, however.

In the middle of the room, John sat in a chair with his knowing smile. His hands were behind his back, and his ankles were handcuffed together. ‘Glad you both made it,’ he said, calm and confident.

Drew paused behind me as well, soaking in the display. ‘What is this?’ he asked.

‘You must be Drew. It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but they’re also handcuffed behind me through a gap in the chair.’

Drew and I shared a confused look. ‘Why?’ I asked John.

‘To ensure your safety. As I said on the phone, I can talk only to you about the study, Hayley. Drew; I’m sorry, but you can’t be with us. I won’t risk you hearing anything, so you must wait outside. The porch will keep you dry, and there’s a gas heater to keep you warm.

‘To make you both comfortable with that arrangement, I elected to restrain myself to this chair. They’re real cuffs – you can come over and check if you want. I put the keys to unlock them in that drawer over there.’ He nodded to a set of drawers across the room, one of the few furnishings. ‘So, should you feel unsafe in any way, you’ll be able to leave long before I can manage to free myself.’

Drew and I were still at the open door, wondering what to make of this development. Drew marched over to John, trying to appear intimidating, and circled the chair from a distance. He looked at me before approaching John from behind the chair, and jingling the handcuffs binding his wrists.

‘Isn’t this a little overkill?’ Drew asked.

‘It’s the only thing that’ll make this as smooth as possible,’ John said, looking over his shoulder. ‘Trust me.’

I laughed once, mostly in disbelief. Drew stepped back, still not entirely convinced based on his furrowed expression, and went to the drawer John had nodded to. He looked inside and pulled out two small silver keys.

‘They’re the ones,’ John said.

Drew put them in his pocket. ‘Alright. This is weird – even weirder than I’d been expecting – but I guess you’re… thorough, at least. There’s just one thing.’ He returned to me. ‘Hayley’s not leaving my sight.’

John was unfazed. ‘I’m sorry, Drew, but that’s not negotiable. I need to speak to Hayley alone, and if you aren’t okay with that, I’ll have to ask both of you to leave. But, if you could, give me those keys, first.’

Drew scoffed but I put a hand on his shoulder and looked at John. ‘Where’s your grandfather?’ I asked.

‘He’ll be joining us shortly.’

Drew raised his open hands. ‘Wasn’t the whole point of this for her to meet him? And he’s not even here?’

‘Yes; she will, but not yet. We’ll talk a little first, then I’ll give Hayley instructions on how to call him, and he’ll arrive once he’s satisfied. He’ll come in through the front door, so you’ll see him before anyone, Drew.’

‘Man, this is weird. You’re weird.’ Drew turned to me. ‘Are you sure about this?’

I looked from Drew to John a few times. Drew was right; this whole situation grew more and more strange every time John opened his mouth. But that did nothing to silence the intrigue I still had for this study, John’s grandpa, and my place in all of it.

I lowered my voice. ‘I’ll be okay. You’ll be right outside.’

Drew sighed. ‘Alright. But if there’s anything – anything – you don’t feel okay about, just yell. I’ll come in, make sure you’re okay, and we’ll leave.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. I smiled; somehow I knew he wouldn’t have to. I couldn’t see John building this whole story just to fuck with me. Plus, though Drew would never admit it, he definitely got a kick out of getting to be the protective boyfriend. ‘I’ll come get you when I’m ready.’

He waited, giving me another chance to change my mind, before stepping back out into the cold, closing the door behind him.

Me and John were left alone in the room.

‘I’m glad he trusts you – and me – enough for this,’ John said. ‘I knew he would, but I’m still glad.’

‘I don’t think he trusts you at all.’ I took a few careful steps toward him. ‘But he knows I’m… interested in whatever this is.’ I paused. ‘So, I’m here, just you and me. Are you finally going to tell me why?’

‘You may want to sit, first.’ He nodded to a chair on the opposite wall, next to me. I pulled it into the middle of the room, close enough to talk without being within reach of John, just in case, and sat, putting my bag on the floor. ‘Okay. From now on, everything I say to you is going to be the truth, and I’m going to be completely honest with you. So, I’ll start by telling you this: I don’t have a grandfather.’

I frowned, a small part of me wanting to stand and call Drew, but John just smiled, unconcerned with my reaction. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘It’s just me. There’s also no study. The flyer was a test. The answers you’ve given tell me exactly who you are, and that you’re the person I’ve been looking for.

‘Before you say anything,’ he said as I opened my mouth to complain, ‘let me explain. I’ll also ask you to keep an open mind, as this may be a little hard to believe.’

He inhaled, as if to recite a prepared speech.

‘For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to… well, travel, in a sense. Ever since I’ve been capable of producing memories, I can focus on a time or place from my life and transport myself there, to that exact moment. I can then continue to live my life from that point – the time that I’ve chosen – with all my current memories intact. It’s a little like time travel, and I can do it at any point I want, to any point I can recall, but things only change from my perspective.’

He paused, giving me just enough time to go through confusion, disbelief, doubt, anger that he’d think I was stupid enough to believe him, and pity that maybe he actually believed it himself. When I opened my mouth to voice all of these, he spoke again.

‘I know you don’t believe me. Why would you? There’s no way for anyone to experience what I’m describing unless they are me. Nothing changes from your perspective. There’s no way I can give you proof, right?’

He waited again, letting me narrow my eyes at him.

‘Unless, of course, we’ve already had this exact conversation many times – at least, I have. Unless you responded to my flyer hundreds and hundreds of times, my questions and your answers always seeming meaningless and trivial – while to you, you’ve only answered once. Unless I’ve tried over and over the exact combination of precautions, events, and words to say to get you here, where you are now, with just the right amount of confusion, distrust, disbelief… but an equal amount of intrigue and curiosity.’

He paused, amused at my reaction. I tried to ignore it, thinking of something to say, but only managed to scoff.

‘On top of that, through all the answers you’ve given me and all the conversations we’ve had – and we’ve had many, between meeting at the cafe and speaking on the phone – I should’ve managed to learn a lot about you; only small details in such small increments that you’d never even realise you were sharing anything with me. But, by having enough of those conversations, and then going back to this point, when we first talk, properly, I should be able to tell you all about yourself. Even things only your closest friends, like Hanna or Blake would know.’ He smiled and raised his eyebrows, leaning forward as much as he could. ‘Right?’

I shook my head trying to form words, but none of them came except a single, ‘What?’

‘Okay, how about we start with the easiest test. Think of something, and I’ll tell you what it is.’

‘What?’ I repeated.

‘Just think of something – anything you want. But don’t tell me.’ He waited a few seconds. ‘Got something?’

Feeling a little ridiculous, I indulged him. ‘Fine. Okay.’

John rolled his eyes as he said, ‘Pineapples.’

I scoffed. ‘Uh… sure. Good guess.’

‘It wasn’t a guess. Think of something else, anything you want. A phrase, or sentence; anything.’

I closed my eyes and thought for a little longer.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘I mean… if what you’re saying is… Wouldn’t you know if I was ready or not?’

‘Yes – it’s more of a common courtesy. Now, you’re thinking: ‘I really want to get Drew in here, but a small part of me wants to see what the hell this guy is talking about, and how far this might go. Also, the handcuffs are starting to make sense.’

I stared at him. It was exactly the phrase I’d been thinking in my head. ‘Okay, you still could’ve… I don’t…’

‘Want to do another one?’ he asked, even more amused. ‘Don’t make it easy, or obvious. Anything you can think of.’

‘Fine.’ I closed my eyes, trying to think of anything – as random a combination of words I could muster. ‘Ready.’

He immediately recited, ‘Opening eyes of an angry armadillo to drown a dyed dress.’

I stared at him. ‘How could you have…’

‘Because I’m telling you the truth, Hayley. I just had to ask exactly what you were thinking, convince you tell me – despite defeating the purpose of this whole test, in your eyes – then come back a few seconds to repeat it back to you, before you’d told me.’

My head was starting to hurt. ‘That’s… impossible. You’re crazy.’

‘Well, I may be crazy, but it definitely is possible.’ He settled back in his chair. ‘I can tell you a lot more, Hayley. Like your name, Hayley Patricia Barnum. You hate your middle name, and as a result very few people even know you have one, like Drew and the aforementioned friends. You only told me, after enough convincing, because you figured I was a stranger, how could it matter? As for your last name, it’s your mother’s. You don’t have anything against your father; they just decided when you were born that Barnum was better than Churmondley. Since your parents never married, it wasn’t an issue at the time, and it hasn’t been an issue in the 24 years since. Your 25th birthday is next year, in March, but you don’t think you’re ready to hit that milestone. You thought you’d have accomplished more in your life by now – either with writing, or achieving some kind of other successful career. But you can’t…’

‘Stop!’ We watched each other for a few moments. ‘So… you have been stalking me? How else could you know all that? Jesus, I… I should’ve listened to Drew.’ I stood up and turned to the door, but stopped when he spoke.

‘Some part of you is still intrigued, otherwise you would’ve left already.’ His impossible confidence oozed through his voice. ‘I know you aren’t going to leave, because you already have left countless times, and I’ve let you. I’ve gone back and tried again, and now I’ve made sure to get the perfect balance of engaging your curiosity with my proof while still scaring you just enough, but not too much. This time, I think you’ll stay.’

I sighed with resignation and turned around. ‘Alright, sure… I am intrigued.’ I wondered what the hell I was still doing here, but he was right. I wanted to know more. ‘I still don’t know if I trust you, or even believe you.’

‘Understandable,’ he said, without missing a beat. ‘How about you take a seat and I’ll tell you a little more, since I already know so much about you. You can just listen, and decide later if you believe me or not.’

I looked back at the door, where Drew waited to take me home at the first mention of unease, where I could forget all about John and his insane claims. Instead, I turned back to the strange self-restrained man and seriously considered his proposal. He was, after all, confined to the chair, and he had piqued my interest.

‘Fine.’ I sat across from him and crossed my legs, hands folded on my knees. ‘I’ll listen.’

My name is John Zhang. I was born on August 18th, 1989. To everyone I’ve met since that day, I’m 32 years old, but to me, I’ve lived so many countless lifetimes’ worth of memories that I consider myself an old man – the oldest man to ever live.

The flyer from the cafe was not entirely untrue. While I don’t have a grandfather who’s involved, I do sometimes think of myself as a somewhat wise, older gentleman running this study – a study to find the right person to tell my story. I believe I’ve found that person.

I can’t really begin to tell you about myself, as much as I’m sure that’s what you’d like to hear. To be honest, the life I’ve lived – the most recent one – isn’t a very exciting story. That’s been the point.

The hundreds, maybe thousands of lives I’ve lived before this one, well – they’re the real story.

I’ve been alive for so long – through my memories and ability – that I couldn’t tell you how many years I’ve actually lived. What I can tell you is that around twenty years ago, I decided it was time to go back. I travelled back to when I was twelve years old to erase the most recent life I’d had in order to begin a new one. This one. I decided that, to put it in the simplest terms I can, I’d had enough. I’d done all I could ever dream of doing. It may sound difficult to believe, but between the decades of living entirely different, complete lives, I’ve reached a point where I no longer have the desire to try something new. Nothing really is new for me anymore, you see.

There’s only one thing I have left to do: share my story with someone else.

So, since I was twelve years old, in this timeline – your timeline, mostly – I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I didn’t dedicate this life to curing horrible diseases, or training to be the best athlete in any sport you can name, or producing some of the greatest artworks in any and all mediums, even ones that don’t exist I created entirely myself. I didn’t develop such celebrity that everyone in the world would know my name, nor did I make millions or billions of dollars through gambling, investments, or running a global company.

I have done all these things, and there’s virtually no limit to all the other lives I’ve lived. But in this life, I dedicated twenty years to simply living. I avoided influencing the world in any real way, as I have so many times before, to simply live a small, quiet life here, in Torchview, with the intention of one day finding the right person to tell my story to.

If I’d pursued and succeeded in any of the thousands of accomplishments I have in previous lives, you would already know who I am. I wouldn’t be able to talk to you and be taken seriously, you see – I’ve tried. It just doesn’t work. The only way this can work is if I am who I am, right now, in this version of my life, and you are who you are, and we can talk like this, without anything else – reputation, fame, prior knowledge – getting in the way.

I stayed silent until John finished speaking, still smiling, impossibly sure of himself; I guess it wasn’t so impossible, now, if the explanation was actually true. ‘Do you have any questions for me?’ he asked patiently.

‘I mean… yes. Obviously.’ I scoffed, eyes narrowed and head shaking. ‘You know… how that all sounds, right?’

‘Yes, I do. Can I ask a favour of you, Hayley? I know you may not believe anything I’ve said – I’d understand, as well – but in order to keep this conversation moving, I’d like you to indulge me. Even if you think I’ve completely lost my mind, perhaps you could just pretend, even just the smallest bit, that what I’m saying is true. It’ll keep things a little more interesting, don’t you think? What would you ask me, then?’

I thought for a moment, his sincere tone convincing. ‘Well, do I even need to ask questions? Couldn’t you just tell me what I’m about to ask and answer it for me?’

‘Yes, I can, but I won’t. In the interest of making this as comfortable and comprehensible for you as I can, I’ll treat our conversation like a normal one.’

Hundreds of questions ran through my mind, but I couldn’t form any words, still in utter confusion, or shock, or intrigue.

‘Well, maybe I can help you with just one to start us off.’ John leaned forward in his chair, his bound arms behind him stopping him. ‘The answer to your first question is, yes. ‘Do I actually believe all of that?’ I do, because it’s true. I understand why you’d still be unsure, though.’

He was right, of course; it was one of the questions I’d been thinking of, word for word. After all his explaining, I was still somehow surprised. ‘Okay. You’re right. Don’t… do that.’

He sat back with a smug grin.

‘Alright, so, indulging you… Let’s say you actually can do all of that – just go back whenever, to whatever you feel like. How many times have you done it here, in front of me?’

‘Ah, now that is a much more interesting question. I travelled a few times in front of Drew. I had to make sure I said everything perfectly to convince him to let us speak, alone. A few times when you and I spoke on the phone, a few more at the cafe. Many more today – including the times I’ve explicitly mentioned. Six times just when I was telling you my story, to make sure everything comes out correctly, without a single mistake.’

I frowned. ‘Why? You can’t just make a mistake?’

He shrugged. ‘Going back a few seconds if I mess something up is more of a habit than a process I actually think about.’

‘That’s kind of… dishonest, don’t you think?’

‘In a way, yes. But I’m not going back in order to lie to you. Just to make sure I tell the truth in the best possible way.’

I sighed and shook my head. ‘So, the whole ‘grandfather’ thing? The study, the flyer… They were all lies, right? You couldn’t just be honest about what you were actually trying to do? Why go through all those extra steps?’

‘So that you’d come here, and I could tell you the truth once we were in private. To you, the extra steps seem illogical, even nonsensical, but the fact that you’re here means they worked. I have tried this many, many, many times already – with other people, or you, and through several different methods. I don’t know why, but the exact combination of events over the last few days – the flyer in the cafe, the supposed grandfather, all our conversations – are all for this, right now. This is the furthest I’ve ever gotten.’

The concept was somewhat graspable in an abstract way, but for it to actually be possible… John and I could’ve already spent so long with each other while he tried to enforce the correct version of events that lead to this, while to me, it simply seemed like any other day. It hurt my head. I tried not think too broadly, instead focusing on one small question at a time. ‘But why does it need to be a secret? Why can only you and I talk about this, in private, in your house, and not… I don’t know, go on the news or something? I mean, aside from the fact that people would think you’re insane.’

‘Well, that is a concern, even though it would be simple enough to prove it to anyone, as I have with you. Mostly.’ He grinned. ‘But there are a number of other reasons as well. I’ve tried to tell people before; family, friends, lovers, entire communities, even the entire world, a few times. Usually it just ends up making things worse. People try to exploit me, or think I’m exploiting them, and being called out for it, even if I’m not.’

I frowned at his wording. ‘But… you have exploited people, using this… ability? I mean, you already admitted you have, with Drew. And me.’

‘Yes; if going back to fix my mistakes while speaking to you can be counted as exploitation. If not that, then learning as much as I could about you before you really knew who I was. I have. I apologise for the insincerity, but my life – the way I live with this ability – it’s impossible not to exploit people. However, I will try to keep it to a minimum with you; I want this exchange to be as natural as it can, given the completely unnatural circumstances.’

I bit my lip; I didn’t know if I liked that, though I did appreciate the honesty. ‘Okay. I have to ask. Can you… do it now? Go back, right in front of me?’

He laughed. ‘You want to see what it looks like?’

I nodded.

We both stared at each other for a few moments before he leaned forward a little. ‘Notice anything?’

I shook my head.

‘I’m not surprised. Obviously I don’t know what it looks like for everyone else, but no one has ever noticed me travelling if I’m only going back a few minutes.’

‘You mentioned that before. You call it ‘travelling’?’

He nodded. ‘Is there are a problem?’

‘It just seems a little, I don’t know… boring. You couldn’t think of something a little more exotic?’

He laughed. ‘I don’t often say it aloud to people. It’s more just how I think of it.’

‘Why don’t you just call it what it is? It’s… Time travel.’ It felt ridiculous to say out loud.

‘As I mentioned before, I hardly think of it like that. I do travel through time, but only with my own consciousness. Nothing changes except me and my perception.’

‘So it’s more like… mind travelling.’

He slowly nodded, impressed. ‘Mind travelling. I like that.’

I closed my eyes to think. ‘Wait, if you like that name, couldn’t you just go back to when you first told me, and call it mind travelling yourself, and pretend like you came up with it?’

He laughed again. ‘Of course I could. But I don’t have to, or want to.’

I had to close my eyes again to consider the implications in that line of questioning, but it already seemed like too much to process. I changed the subject. ‘So… where did you go, just now, when I asked you to?’

‘I went back a few minutes. You were in the middle of asking me why I don’t tell people about the mind-travelling.’

‘And you just… relived that conversation, exactly the same, to get back to here?’

‘Well, not exactly the same. That’s pretty much impossible, given the amount of variables happening all the time at any given moment. That version of our conversation was mostly the same, but a few slight differences – an extra inflection here, a shorter pause there – made it unique to the one we’re now having. But this one is the only one you – this you – will ever know.’ He paused, his eyes on me. ‘If it’s any consolation, I’ll go back again, right now, to when you first asked me to do it in front of you.’ He watched me for a few moments, his smile always present. ‘Notice anything that time?’

‘No, but…’ I said. ‘Just… I don’t… how?’ I felt foolish, but couldn’t word it any other way. ‘How does that even work? You just went back, relived those few minutes to get back here, but to me, nothing has changed. What happened to you – the other you – who went back? Because the first time we spoke, you hadn’t gone back, right? So how…’ I sighed.

‘I understand your frustration,’ he said, apparently amused by it, too. ‘But all I can tell you is that from my perspective, there’s only one me, and that’s the one that’s been talking to you this whole time. Just as from your perspective, there’s only one you – the one that’s been talking to me this whole time.’

I frowned. ‘This is… probably a bit too much for me to comprehend, right now.’

‘I understand.’ His smile hadn’t left, still a little smug. He looked satisfied, maybe that he was able to discuss all this with someone about it without being considered completely crazy. Although, that was surely something he’d experienced before, if he’d lived so many countless lives. ‘Let’s try to keep it a bit lighter, for now. Do you have any other questions?’

I scoffed again. ‘I don’t think I could ever run out of questions.’ Despite that, it still took me a few moments to decide which one to ask next. ‘Okay… What am I doing here? Why tell me this story of yours? You said you found the right person for your ‘study’, to tell your story, or whatever. Why does it have to be me?’

John shrugged. ‘If it didn’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I would’ve come back when I realised you weren’t the person I though you were, and I’d ask you to leave so that your time isn’t wasted.’

‘But… what if I’m just a different me, like you said, to the one that you realise is wrong for this. You go back and tell some different version of me, but you still have to go through this process. Where does that leave me?’

John chuckled. ‘I think you’re starting to understand things a little better, Hayley.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘The truth is, I have a good feeling about you, and you’re proving me right, already. Since you arrived at my house, you’ve already gone through a healthy amount of suspicion, to strangely intrigued, to thinking I’m insane, to actually discussing – and giving me the benefit of the doubt – my weird ability with me in a logical, non-judgemental conversation.’

‘But… I just still don’t understand. What do you expect me to do with this information?’

‘You’re a writer, aren’t you? Write about it.’

I laughed. ‘Oh, I’m barely a writer. It’s just a dumb hobby. There’s much more qualified people out there than me you should be talking to, if all you need is someone to write about… this.’

‘And yet, here we both are. Maybe you should stop worrying about why you’re here, why it’s you and not someone else, and just appreciate that it is you, and see with that what you can do.’

I sighed. ‘That sounds like a bad motivational speech.’

‘I appreciate that.’ He laughed, and I smiled, though inside I was still distraught with confusion. ‘Now, I know you have more questions, obviously. But I’m afraid I may have to cut things short. It’s about time for you to head home, for today. Drew’s getting a little worried out there.’

The instant he finished his last word, knocking came from the door behind me. ‘Hayley?’ Drew said, opening the door as I turned to meet his eyes. ‘Everything okay? I’m getting a little worried out here.’

I glared at John and he raised his eyebrows above a mischievous grin, as if I should be impressed. I rolled my eyes looked back at Drew. ‘Yeah, I’m okay. Everything’s… everything’s fine.’

Sensing my ambivalence, he lowered his voice. ‘You sure? That grandfather of his still hasn’t shown up.’

‘I know, it’s… it’s okay. I’ll explain everything after. We’re almost finished, in here.’

Drew nodded, looking once at John, then me, then closing the door again.

‘He’s a good kid,’ John said.

‘Yeah. Usually I like to hear what he has to say before someone else tells me.’

‘Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. I only need to go back a few seconds for that to work.’

I shook my head, though shared some of his amusement. ‘Alright. So, what do we do now? There’s definitely a lot more I want to ask about.’

‘Perfect, Hayley – I have some questions for you, but I think you just answered the first one. You’re interested in continuing this ‘study’?’

I swallowed. ‘You mean, come here and talk to you about this stuff?’ He nodded. ‘Yeah. I… guess so. Why not.’

‘I love your enthusiasm.’ He laughed. ‘I do understand the hesitance, though. It’s a lot to process. Still, I have to ask; would you be comfortable returning here alone next time, so that we won’t be interrupted, or have any kind of time constraint?’

I thought a little more about that one. ‘I… I think so.’

‘In that case; lastly, I have a request. A task for you, when you get home. I want you to come up with as many questions as you can for me. Write them all down, and next time, we’ll begin the process of getting through all of them. Each and every one. It might take a while – more than one visit – but I want you to know absolutely everything you want to about me, and my story. Can you do that?’

‘I think I can. I didn’t think I’d be leaving here with homework.’ I thought for a moment. ‘So if you want me to ‘tell your story’, should I be recording these conversations in some way?’

‘It’s completely in your hands. I’m just going to tell you as much about myself as I can; how you deal with all of that information is up to you.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Seems like a lot of responsibility.’

John smiled. ‘I think you can handle it.’

‘I have one more question,’ I said. ‘What am I supposed to tell Drew about all of this?’

‘Whatever you want; it’s your decision. You can tell him everything we talked about, if you like – if you think he’ll believe you. You can lie to him, although I don’t think that’s something you’d actually consider. Or just tell him he might not understand even if you did tell him. Again, you can handle it; I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’

I sighed and stood, putting my bag on my shoulder, and turned to let Drew back in. He came in immediately, as if he’d been waiting right by the door.

‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. We’re all done, I think.’ I looked at John, who gave a friendly nod to both of us. ‘John’s, uh, grandfather isn’t coming.’

Drew narrowed his eyes, suspicious. ‘Okay…’ He took the two small keys from his pocket. ‘I guess I should let him out of there?’ he asked me, as if John wasn’t in the room.

I nodded, and Drew walked over to unlock John’s wrists behind the chair. John brought his hands forward, rubbing the joints. ‘Thanks, Drew.’ Drew gave a curt nod in response, dropping the keys in the older man’s lap. He’d be able to unlock the ankle cuffs himself.

Drew returned to my side and folded his arms, while John stayed in the chair, watching the two of us with a friendly smile. I thought about how he must know exactly what to say, how to act, in front of Drew to avoid developing any kind of issue.

‘What did you talk about, then?’ Drew asked both of us.

John and I shared a look, but he seemed to be waiting for me to answer. ‘It’s… a long story,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you about it on the way home.’

I wasn’t looking forward to that conversation – partly because I knew how ridiculous it would all sound, but also because I’d have to relive the painful thought processes surrounding the implications of John’s ‘mind-travelling’… which would be just as unpleasant as Drew contemplating John’s – and my – insanity.

We said our goodbyes, somewhat awkward considering Drew had no idea all John and I had discussed. We quickly walked through the rain to the car, parked just down the street, and jumped in, removing our coats.

‘Alright.’ Drew turned to me before starting the car. ‘Are you going to tell me what the hell that was all about?’

I thought about my options, as John had listed some potential ones. I could tell Drew the truth – at least, tell him exactly what John had told me. I could lie to him… which I barely even registered as a viable choice. Even if I did have any intention of not being honest with the man I loved, and who loved me, he’d know something was off instantly. Otherwise, I could just tell him that what John and I had discussed was private, personal, or something along those lines, and I wouldn’t feel right discussing it with Drew. That option felt just as bad as outright lying.

I sighed. ‘I’m going to try. But… do you trust me?’

Drew glanced over as he pulled out onto the road, heading home. ‘What? Of course I do. What does that mean?’

I exhaled, nodding slowly to myself. ‘Okay. Just… try to keep an open mind for me, okay?’

Drew, more confused than he’d been all day, looked at me again – maybe to see if I was joking – before watching the road. His mind, I guessed, was less focused, probably all over the place.

‘So,’ I began, ‘he calls it ‘travelling’… mind travelling.’