Green World Gray

By Marianne Modica

Mom is behaving strangely-even for her, Will realizes, and the inquisitive teen can't rest until he discovers why. So begins a time travel adventure for Will and his sister, Halia-adventure Will has longed for bu

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marianne Modica
• Release date: Jun 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735100517

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Green_World_Gray_-_FRONT_Cover.png

Marianne Modica

To all the kids who will make the world a greener, better place, and to all the parents who’d like to go back in time for just one day.

Copyright © 2020 by Marianne Modica

Cover art by Mike Fichera

Design by Melanie Bridgens

Copyedit by Carmel Forte

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For permission requests or order information contact

the author at [e-mail]

Printed in the United States of AmericaContents

Contents

PART I – PAST

Something Weird

Evidence

The Impossible

Discovery

Rewind

Debrief

With or Without You

The Journal

Esther’s Plan

PART II – FUTURE

Alternate

The Future is Green

Messes

Getting Back

The Future is Greenish

Family First

PART III– PRESENT

Happily Never After

The Plan

MIT

PART IV– WATERSHED

Take Two

The Future is Gray

Last Chance

Epilogue

PART I – PAST

Chapter 1

SomethIng WeIrd

Time seemed to move differently once school was out. Some days it stretched out like a dry, hot desert road that led to nowhere. On other days, when least expected, something brilliant would fall from the sky and land smack in the middle of that long, desolate road. A tiny meteorite, a bit of carbon from a dying red giant, a silver staple from an alien space ship, or a stray particle of the time wave itself would bounce, explode, and pick up speed, winding and spinning and carrying one to places one never imagined. Chester, the Horace’s cat, knew this very well, even if his charges did not.

On this particular day, when Will and Halia Horace settled in the hallway between their bedrooms, time was in its former state. Will rested on his knees, digging through a pile of Legos. He brushed his straggly brown hair out of his eyes as he constructed a vehicle that was part Tardis and part USS Enterprise. Kids at school might think that a thirteen-year-old was too old for Legos, but Will figured that was their problem. He couldn’t care less what they thought about him or anything else.

Across from him Hal leaned back, long legs stretched out and almost touching the opposite wall. Although she was only two years older than her brother, she was a good six inches taller. She flipped through the pictures on her phone, her facial expression changing from a slight smile to a tiny frown and back again. There were lots of other places in the house where brother and sister might have been more comfortable—the sofa in the family room, for example, was warm and soft and covered with big, plush pillows. But since Will was forced to endure family movie nights on that sofa, he didn’t often settle there on his own. And since his father fell asleep there most nights while watching Law and Order reruns, Will tended to think of the sofa as stage one of Dad’s bedtime ritual. Stage two was stumbling up the stairs, yelling, Go to bed! at anyone in his path, and stage three was collapsing on his actual bed, where Mom had been sleeping for hours. No, Will preferred the small, close space that connected the messy, unpredictable world of his room with the tidy, serene world of his sister’s. Anyway, the upstairs hallway was Chester’s favorite spot and more often than not Will and Hal plopped themselves there just to be near their sleeping cat.

Look at this picture, Hal said, shoving her phone in Will’s face. Will glanced at the selfie of Hal with Esther and Rebekah, sisters who lived two houses down.

Yeah? said Will. So what?

Look closer, Hal answered, and Will noticed a fourth head behind the girls.

Some dude photobombing. Again, so what?

That’s not just any dude, Hal replied. That’s David Rast. Which could mean he likes one of us.

Or it could mean he had nothing better to do.

True. But you never know. Hal’s thumbs flew over the keyboard. I’ll see what Rebek thinks.

Sometimes Will wished his sister had never gotten a cell phone. Their parents had resisted, sticking to the low technology mandate of Go Green Academy, their charter school. But Hal begged and pleaded and they’d finally given in. Since then Hal had changed, as if the phone connected her to a power source that transformed matter. Will shook his head. Whatever.

Coming through, said Mom as she stepped carefully over the bodies in the hallway. You two are going to have to find something constructive to do during summer vacation. Yeah, Will thought, it had been a whole two days since school ended. Better get busy before their brains turned to mush.

We will, Hal answered. Don’t worry, Mom.

Chester opened one eye and swiped at Mom’s leg as she passed. Silly cat, Mom muttered, almost tripping, but Chester yawned and resumed his comatose pose. Mom turned right, toward the closet at the end of the hall where she kept cleaning supplies and other useless stuff. Will crawled to the edge of the wall and peeped around the corner.

She’s doing it again, he whispered.

Hal looked up from her phone. Doing what again? And why are you spying on Mom? She reached to pull Will back but he brushed her away.

Something weird is going on, he insisted. Watch.

They watched Mom enter the closet, shut the door, and reemerge not two seconds later.

See what I mean? Will said. She does that all the time—goes in for a second and comes back out. Nothing in her hands—no clothes, no boxes, no nothing. Mom practically floated down the hall to her bedroom and stood at her dresser, staring at baby pictures of Hal and Will with a dreamy, tranquil smile.

Check out the expression on her face, said Will, still whispering.

So what, Hal replied warily. Mom always looks like that. She’s always telling us to smile.

That was no lie. Mom possessed a perpetually sunny disposition that she often tried to inflict on Will, but unfortunately for her Will was immune to that particular affliction. Hal, however, was highly susceptible and smiled almost as often as Mom did.

I’m telling you it’s weird, even for Mom. She goes into the closet and then comes right back out, as if she forgot something, only she didn’t. Then she sits around like she’s on drugs.

Are you saying Mom is taking drugs in the closet? That’s ridiculous! Hal protested, and Will had to admit it was ridiculous. His mom, sunshiny, fitness nut Alexis Horace, wannabe mother of the year, the say no to drugs poster child, would never, ever, do such a thing in a closet or anywhere else.

Will shook his head. Don’t you get it? She doesn’t have time to do anything in the closet. She pops in and pops out a second later. So why does she keep going in there?

Since when do you care what Mom does? I would’ve thought you’d be glad she’s leaving you alone.

Will had to think about that. Hal knew him well—it wasn’t like him to worry about Mom’s emotional well-being (or anyone else’s). And Mom wasn’t so far into her dream-like trances that she’d leave the stove on and burn the house down or something stupid like that. No, there was something else nudging at Will. Mom’s behavior was a puzzle that Will was determined to solve.

Besides, you’re imagining things, Hal continued. That’s what happens when you spy on people, she added while scrolling through David Rast’s social media page to see who his friends were, where he’d been, and what he’d been doing for the past two weeks.

Will decided to let it go for now. But he’d find a way to prove he was right. Will went back to his Lego building and Chester, who had been listening discreetly, drifted into a troubled sleep. With so much at stake, he’d need to keep a closer watch on his humans.

Hal finished setting the table just before Dad stepped in the door. He always looked tired and frazzled when he came home from work and Hal knew he needed to decompress from the long subway and bus commute. She waited patiently with Mom until Dad reappeared, face washed and ready for dinner. Will, as usual, had to be called three times.

When they were finally all seated, Dad started with his usual questions. How was your day? Anything exciting happen? He received the usual responses.

Fine.

No.

With that out of the way, he turned to Mom.

Any progress on the junk in the basement? he asked with a little edge to his voice. Hal stopped chewing and shifted in her seat. Mom and Dad hardly ever argued outright, but lately their dinnertime conversations had been tinged with tension. Hal looked to Will, but he was in some far away world, chomping on his organic mashed potatoes without a care.

Mom smiled. I separated everything today and Goodwill is coming tomorrow, she said brightly.

Dad spoke evenly but without Mom’s perkiness. Separated? I thought we’d agreed to get rid of all that old junk.

Chester jumped from the floor to the counter to the top of the refrigerator in two swift, sleek movements. He sat up tall, sizing up his underlings like a king on his throne.

Mom smiled again, this time sheepishly. Well, almost all of it. I just can’t part with the baby stuff yet. The crib, the stroller, the high chair—I don’t know. I’m not ready to let it go.

Alex, we agreed our family is complete, right? There’s no need to keep any of that.

Mom took an elastic tie from her wrist and gathered her hair into a businesslike ponytail. Hal liked her own thick brown mane, but part of her had always wished she’d inherited Mom’s silky blond tresses. I know, honey, you’re right, Mom said. But that stuff is full of memories for me. I’m just not ready.

Dad rubbed the top of his head, a sure sign that things were about to go sideways. Hal pushed her salad around her plate while Will attacked the last grass-fed hamburger.

Dad’s voice rose slightly. "Why do you have to be ready to get rid of junk we’re not using? It’s just stuff, Alexis. It’s not like I’m asking you to get rid of the kids. Or the cat. When Dad shifted from Alex to Alexis, escalation was imminent. Chester pushed a box of oatmeal onto the floor, dislodging the top and scattering oatmeal everywhere. But maybe we should get rid of that cat," Dad growled.

Mom jumped up to grab the broom while Chester coolly slid a half-finished package of organic trail mix to the floor next to the spilled oatmeal.

Chester! Dad yelled. Get down!

Chester maintained his regal pose.

Stupid cat! Dad reached up to poke Chester from behind but the cat simply moved away, knocking over a pile of papers in the process.

Why is there so much junk on top of this refrigerator? Dad grumbled, scooping up the scattered pages of homework, class notes, and quizzes. Do we need all these papers? School is over. He moved to dump them into the recycling bin.

Wait! Mom cried. I need to go through those! There might be something the kids want to save.

Will, Dad asked, is there anything in this pile you want to save?

Nope.

Hal?

Hal looked from Dad to Mom and back again. Maybe. she answered.

You see? Mom said. Just put them on the counter for now.

After glaring at his family for a few seconds, Dad did as he was told and sat down to finish his dinner. Several moments of silence passed while Dad calmed down, each bite becoming a little less forceful than the one before. Finally, he sighed, Okay, honey, you win. We’ll hold on to the baby stuff for now, but eventually it’s gotta go. We need the space for future storage.

Okay, said Mom, smiling once again. Hal smiled too, relieved by the temporary truce.

That night while Mom and Dad watched the Mets game, Hal slipped into Will’s room. She’d arranged her thick brown hair into a bun on the top of her head. How does it look? she asked.

Will glanced up from his Doctor Who comic. Like a frizzy donut. Or a bagel.

Thanks.

Will’s bed was covered with mini space craft, action figures, small tools, and some other items Hal couldn’t identify. When she brushed them aside to make a place to sit, a metal clock casing fell to the floor. Out bounced an assortment of gears, wheels, sprockets, and springs. Did you take a clock apart? I hope that wasn’t Mom’s, she said, although there was only one clock in the house that wasn’t digital and she’d just passed it in the kitchen.

Just some old junk from Mr. Salazar. On most days their retired neighbor could be found tinkering in his garage next door. Will visited him often and usually came home with a gadget of one kind or another that he’d take apart but could never put back together again.

Do you think anything’s going on with Mom and Dad? Hal asked.

I think there’s something going on with Mom. I told you. Something weird is happening in that closet.

How could anything weird happen if she’s only in there for a second? You know Mom’s a little flakey. She probably goes to get something and forgets what it was.

Every day? Will asked. And what about that look on her face?

Forget about the closet. Did you notice how Mom and Dad were arguing at dinner? They’ve been doing that more and more.

If they get a divorce, me and Chester are staying with Mr. Salazar.

Not funny. Hal’s dark eyebrows knit together in worry. A lot of her friends’ parents were divorced. It could happen. We need to be careful not to upset them. She looked pointedly at Will.

"You mean I need to be careful. You never do anything to upset anyone. Hal heard no resentment in her brother’s voice. He was simply stating the truth. I’m the troubled child of the family."

Hal softened. You’re not troubled. You just don’t care what other people think. She picked up a few pieces of the disassembled clock and tried to fit them together.

You can’t fix it, Will told her. It’s too complicated. I’ve tried.

Maybe you give up too easily.

Whatever. But I’m going to find a way to prove I’m right about Mom. Will went back to reading his comic and didn’t even look up when Hal tossed the broken timepiece to the side and left the room.

By the time Will dragged himself out of bed it was mid-morning and already eighty degrees outside, warm for late June in the Queens suburb that was home. Not a morning person, Will shuffled into the kitchen with his eyes half closed and poured himself a bowl of cereal. When nine hundred years old you reach…yeah, yeah, you know the rest, he said to Yoda’s picture on the box.

Mom and Hal entered through the back door, smelling of dirt and sweat. They’d been working in the raised bed garden Mom kept in their small, fenced-in yard.

Whew, it’s humid out there, Mom commented, wiping her face on her T-shirt sleeve. I’m going to jump in the shower. Hal sat in the chair next to her brother, who continued to stare at Yoda and chew.

We fed the tomatoes, she offered.

How did you know they were hungry? Will asked, still not looking up. Did they knock on the door with a bowl and spoon, or did you just hear their stomachs rumbling?

You think you’re pretty funny. We’re going to the pool. Want to come?

Who’s we, and is Mom driving? Will liked the pool, but he hated the bus ride and mile walk it took to get there if no one was willing to drive them.

Rebekah, Esther, and me, and Mom can drive us but we’ll have to take the bus home. She’s got some appointments this afternoon.

No thanks. It made no sense to Will to cool off at the pool and get all hot and sweaty again on the way home. I’ll stick with the air conditioning. Besides, there’s something I need to do. Will’s brain had been formulating a plan while he slept and he needed some time to work it through. A visit to Mr. Salazar might help.

They heard the bathroom door open. Mom’s done, Hal said. I’m going to take a shower.

Will wondered how many times in one day a person would want to get wet. When he’d finished eating, he threw on shorts and a T-shirt and headed outside, hoping to find Mr. Salazar in his garage. The garage door was open, as usual, and as Will entered he stopped to look at a glossy photo of the swimming pool at the Hacienda San Maria, where Mr. Salazar had once lived with his parents. The crisp, blue water almost looked real and Will pictured himself smacking through its cold, clear surface in a cannon ball dive. He’d almost changed his mind about going to the pool when Mr. Salazar appeared, wearing his usual short sleeve, button-down work shirt and jeans. He was followed by a bored looking Chester.

What are you doing here? Will asked his cat. Chester rubbed his gray fur against Will’s leg.

We were just having a little talk, Mr. Salazar answered with a wink. He sat on a stool at the worktable that stretched along the length of the garage. Will sat beside him, quietly watching Mr. Salazar tinker with one of a dozen dismantled TV remotes, using a magnifying lamp and tweezers to remove and replace tiny parts. Chester settled on the cool cement under the table and nestled his head in his paws. It wasn’t unusual for them to sit like that in silence. That was one of the things Will liked best about Mr. Salazar; he asked no questions and expected no answers. Just being was enough for him.

But on that day just being was not enough for Will. He had something on his mind. What would you do if you needed to see what someone was doing without them knowing it? he asked.

Mr. Salazar put down the screwdriver he’d been using and fished though a metal toolbox for a smaller one. He showed no sign he’d heard Will’s question, but a minute later he said, I guess that depends on who this person is and why I need to know what he or she is doing.

How could Will explain his suspicions about Mom to Mr. Salazar? Not being very good at diplomacy, he decided on the direct approach. It’s my mom. Something weird is going on with her. Every day I see her shut herself into the hall closet, just for a second. She walks in, shuts the door, stands in the dark for a second, and then walks out again. Nothing in her hands. Then she sits around with a dreamy look on her face, staring at our baby pictures.

If Mr. Salazar was surprised, he didn’t show