Paul Melko: The Walls of the Universe

John stared, then said, “I understand the rule. But-”

“You’re a straight-A student, varsity basketball and track. You’re well liked. Destined for a good college. This could be a blemish on your record.”

John knew what the word “could” meant. Gushman was about to offer him a way out.

“A citation for violence, as stated in the student handbook, means a three-day suspension and the dropping of any sports activities. You’d be off the basketball and track teams.”

John’s throat tightened.

“Do you see the gravity of the situation?”

“Yes,” John managed to say.

Gushman opened another folder on his desk. “But I recognize this as a special case. So if you write a letter of apology to Mrs. Carson, we’ll drop the whole matter.” Gushman looked at him, expecting an answer.

John felt cornered. Yes, he had hit Ted, because he was a prick. Ted needed hitting, if anyone did; he had dropped John’s clothes in the urinal. He said, “Why does Mrs. Carson want the letter? I didn’t hit her. I hit Ted.”

“She feels that you showed her disrespect. She wants the letter to address that as well as the violence.”

If he just wrote the letter, it would all go away. But he’d always know that his mother and Mrs. Carson had squashed him. He hated that. He hated any form of defeat. He wanted to tell Gushman he’d take the suspension. He wanted to throw it all in the man’s face.

Instead, John said, “I’d like to think about it over the weekend if that’s okay.”

Mr. Gushman’s smile told John that he was sure he’d bent John to his will. John went along with it, smiling back. “Yes. You may. But I need a decision on Monday.”

John left for his next class.

The city library was just a couple of blocks from the school. John wandered through the stacks until he found Prime at the center study desk in a row of three on the third floor. He had a dozen Findlay Heralds spread out, as well as a couple books. His backpack was open, and John saw that it was jammed with paper and folders.

To hide his features, Prime wore a Toledo Meerkats baseball hat and sunglasses. He pulled off his glasses when he saw John, and said, “You look like crap. What happened to you?”

“Nothing. Now what are you doing? I have to get back to the school by five. There’s a game tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Prime picked up the history book. “In every universe I’ve been in, it’s always something simple. Here George Bush raised taxes and he never got elected to a second term. Clinton beat him in ’91.” He opened the history book and pointed to the color panel of American presidents. “In my world, Bush never backed down on the taxes thing and the economy took off and he got elected to his second term. He was riding even higher when Hussein was assassinated in the middle of his second term. His son was elected in 1996.”

John laughed. “That joker?”

Prime scowled. “Dubya worked the national debt down to nothing. Unemployment was below three percent.”

“It’s low here too. Clinton did a good job.”

Prime pointed to a newspaper article he had copied. “Whitewater? Drug use? Vince Foster?” He handed the articles to John, then shook his head. “Never mind. It’s all pretty much irrelevant anyway. At least we didn’t grow up in a world where Nixon was never caught.”

“What happened there?”

“The Second Depression usually. Russia and the U.S. never coming to an arms agreement. Those are some totalitarian places.” He took the articles back from John. “Are there Post-it notes in this world?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Prime shrugged. “Sometimes there aren’t. It’s worth a fortune. And so simple.” He pulled out his notebook. “I have a hundred of them.” He opened his notebook to a picture of the MTV astronaut. “MTV?”

“Yep.”

“The World Wide Web?”

“I think so.”

“Rubik’s Cube?”

“Never heard of it.”

Prime checked the top of the figure with a multicolored cube. “Ah ha. That’s a big moneymaker.”

“It is?”

He turned the page. “Dungeons and Dragons?”

“You mean that game where you pretend to be a wizard?”

“That’s the one. How about Lozenos? You got that here?”

“Never heard of it. What is it?”

“Candy. South African diamond mines?”

They worked through a long list of things, about three-quarters of which John had heard of, fads, toys, or inventions.

“This is a good list to work from. Some good moneymakers on this.”

“What are you going to do?” John asked. This was his world, and he didn’t like what he suspected Prime had in mind.

Prime smiled. “There’s money to be made in interdimensional trade.”

“Interdimensional trade?”

“Not in actual goods. There’s no way I can transport enough stuff to make a profit. Too complicated. But ideas are easy to transport, and what’s in the public domain in the last universe is unheard of in the next. Rubik sold one hundred million Cubes. At ten dollars a cube, that’s a billion dollars.” He lifted up the notebook. “There are two dozen ideas in here that made hundreds of millions of dollars in other worlds.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Prime smiled his arrogant smile. “Not me. We. I need an agent in this world to work the deals. Who better than myself? The saying goes that you can’t be in more than one place at a time. But I can.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And we split it fifty-fifty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Listen. It’s not stealing. These ideas have never been thought of here. The people who invented these things might not even be alive here.”

“I never said it was stealing,” John said. “I’m just not so sure I believe you still.”

Prime sighed. “So what’s got you so down today?”

John said, “I may get suspended from school and kicked off the basketball and track teams.”

“What? Why?” Prime looked genuinely concerned.

“I beat up a kid, Ted Carson. His mother told my mother and the principal. They want me to apologize.”

Prime was angry. “You’re not gonna, are you? I know Ted Carson. He’s a little shit. In every universe.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” Prime pulled a notebook out of his bag. “Ted Carson, huh? I have something on him.”

John looked over Prime’s shoulder at the notebook. Each page had a newspaper clipping, words highlighted and notes at the bottom referencing other pages. One title read: “Mayor and Council Members Indicted.” The picture showed Mayor Thiessen yelling. Another article was a list of divorces granted. Prime turned the page and pointed. “Here it is. ‘Ted Carson Picked Up for Torturing a Neighbor’s Cat.’ Apparently the boy killed a dozen neighborhood animals before getting caught.” He glanced at John.

“I’ve never heard anything about that.”

“Then maybe he never got caught here.”

“What are we going to do with that?” John asked. He read the article, shaking his head.

“Grease the gears, my brother.” Prime handed John the newspaper listing of recent divorces. “Photocopy this.”

“Why?”

“It’s the best place to figure out who’s sleeping with who. That usually doesn’t change from one universe to the next. Speaking of which, how does Casey Nicholson look in this universe?”

“What?”

“Yeah. Is she a dog or a hottie? Half the time she’s pregnant in her junior year and living in a trailer park.”

“She’s a cheerleader,” John said.

Prime glanced at him and smiled. “You like her, don’t you? Are we dating her?”

“No!”

“Does she like us?”