Follow-up to short story Push the Button featuring Paul and Sally who have a button that transposes them to different variations of the universe. In this multiverse adventure, they also find a mysterious screen…
The Multiverse Adventures of Paul and Sally: Watch the Screen! An Infinite Array of Possible Dreams
We had been in this world for multiple years, by far the longest we stayed in any other version of Earth we had experienced. Neither Sally nor I had any immediate desire to push the big red button ourselves and replace our bodies with another version of us. In this reality, we lived lonesome lives in the mountains with copious amounts of alcohol and a bountiful stream of wealth.
With little to get attached to other than each other and fancy whiskey, this world was ideal for us at this time. By getting heavily drunk on a daily basis, we were constantly trying to shake off the awareness of the fact that, in some distant parallel universe, differing forms of us could push that blasted button and shove us into a whole other set of circumstances, taking our place in this blissful mountainous setting.
We were making dinner in the kitchen when it finally happened.
Having learned not to concern our minds with the given environment’s current events, we often discussed philosophy, theology, and other matters that might provide some purpose or meaning to our absurd existence. That specific night, we were debating whether or not freewill is an illusion.
“The neurons and atoms in your brain operate on mathematical principles like everything else. Even if your brain tricks itself into believing in choice, it still is a result of chemical reactions happening in the skull,” I proclaimed.
“Then why so many different world and alterations?” Sally rebuked as she seasoned the raw fish. “Our choices in other worlds, including that original decision to push that cursed contraption, is what result in different variations of you and me. Otherwise, all of us would be the same no matter the universe and therefore the button would appear to do nothing at all, even if it still worked.”
And as if mentioning the button itself caused the nauseating transition to another iteration of the Cosmos. The walls got blurry and there was a WHOOSH that propelled a sickening feeling to manifest in the gut. The new world came slowly into focus. I blurted, “Shit.”
"Where are we now?"
"Some sort of house..."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she sneered.
I ignored her teasing, suddenly not feeling well. "Check the closet, do we have the button already?"
"Oh wow, you're bald," she commented as this reality came into focus. "And you don't look too good."
"Check the closet, please." Walking over to a mirror, the pain radiated throughout my body. "I think this is cancer."
"Yes," she exclaimed with joy. "I've got the button." She ran over to me and clutched my hand. With the other hands, we each went to push that red circle ... Click. WHOOSH!
“Where are we this time?”
I was wearing casual office attire and Sally was in a tight black dress. “Well you look nice,” I commented.
“Shut up, Paul. What are we doing in an office? Have we not found the button in this reality?”
“Ugh,” I groaned.
Some older chubby gentleman with a plastic expression walked by. “Hey Paul. Leave the new girl alone and let’s get back to work, alright?”
Momentarily frozen, I gazed at the man in total confusion. “Just a minute, sir. She just had a quick question.”
“Okay,” the apparent boss or manager replied. “Don’t scare her away, now.”
After he walked away, I soft shut the office door and pointed at a purse. “Check your ID, figure out what state we’re in.”
She unclipped a wallet and pulled out her driving license. “Maryland. Alright, not far from New Jersey…. And they named me Christine. Yuck.”
“That’s assuming that we’re lucky enough to be in a world where she ended up at that nursing home,” I said.
“Here’s a phone… maybe she’s still alive here.” She scrolled the small screen on the device until she found the contact ‘Mom.’
“What kind of cars do we have?”
“I’ve got a key with some weird logo I’ve never seen…”
“I’m sure I’ve got something nice if I’m working here, but I don’t feel like finding where my office is. Let’s get out of here.”
To recap, we both were fully aware that we could not stay in this reality long. We were unaware what would happen to the pair of us if another pair of us pushed the button and we were not in the same area at the time. If under the same roof, we were fine but only if there were no other occupants in the building. Otherwise, we stayed in the same space to stay together. For better or worse, our adventures throughout the multiverse had bonded us closer and strengthened our love.
Making our exit, a confused secretary asked, “Where are you two running off to?”
“I quit,” I said without stopping.
“Me too!” Sally chimed in, halfway out the door. “We’ve fallen instantly in love!”
In the elevator, I stated, “A life insurance company? How did we end up working here?”
With a sly expression, she responded, “We made different choices. Because freewill exists, see?”
Locating her car was relatively easy. The wallet in these khaki pants had a few hundred dollars in it and an ID with a Baltimore address. We went there to grab some more supplies, food, and cash. “Nice place. I don’t see a kid or wife. We could try to stay and make it work.”
“You didn’t notice the ring on my finger, dumbass? Clearly a wedding band.”
“Doesn’t mean you have kids…” I mumbled.
“Let’s find the stupid button first.”
Off down the interstate, we sped away from the city. Sally called her older brother to check-in and figure out if their mother was alive or not in this parallel reality. She was not; passed away this year in fact. What remained of her stuff was in a storage unit two hours away in Magnolia, New Jersey.
We picked up the key from her only sibling, who remarked, “Didn’t you start a new job this week? Who’s the guy?” He pointed at me sitting in the passenger seat.
“I’ll tell you later, okay?” She tried to pull away.
“Where’s Mike?”
“Who?”
“Your husband, Chrissy. Are you feeling okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” she lied. “There’s just something I have to grab from Mom’s old stuff, okay?”
“Okay…”
We got there and rummaged around for a bit. “There’s the bag,” I exclaimed.
“Alright, let’s get out of here…”
“Wait.”
“What? Is it not in there?” Sally sounded slightly alarmed.
“No, it’s in here. But there’s also like… a little TV or something.”
“What? Let me see.”
Inside the bag there was the expected orange rectangle with a big red button in the middle of it. And then there was a new device that we had never seen before. It looked sort of like an old handheld television set without the large antenna. There were three knobs, each a faded shade of silver, on the yellowish white gadget. One was for power, the other for volume, and then a third.
I clicked it on and the two of us were in shock at what appeared on the little screen. “Is that you?” Sally wondered. “You look fat.”
The black and white screen displayed a man resembling myself in a kitchen making a cake. “I’m alone,” I observed. “What is this thing?” Turning the third knob, another iteration of myself appeared. “And here I look pretty good.”
“And you’re with some girl…” Sally snatched the new contraption from my grip. “Give me that.” She changed the station and then another version of herself was shown on the screen. “I’m not with you, either. Is this showing us the universes where we never met and never pushed the button?”
“Let’s back to my house in Baltimore before we leave this place…”
“Fine,” Sally sighed. “But only if we grab a bottle of bourbon first. Something strong.”
We huddled up that night on the bed and took turns scrolling the infinite array of possible dreams that popped up on the mysterious machine’s screen. In one I was painting, and in another, I coached a high school baseball team. Sally would get glassy eyes when she watched other iterations of herself living a blissful life, ignorant of the button’s existence and its mystical powers.
“I think we should push it tomorrow and get out of here,” she told me the following evening. “You’re becoming addicted to that thing.”
“It’s fascinating,” I said. “I don’t want to go…”
“Paul!” she gasped. “Stop looking at the stupid screen and look at me.” She waited until I abided before continuing, “I don’t like that thing. What’s the point of witnessing other worlds I will never truly know, feeling things I will never get to feel?”
“This place isn’t so bad,” I argued.
“We still don’t know if either of us have any kids in this world. I can’t go through that experience again. And I’m married to some dude named Mike? No thank you.”
“A few more days? Please?”
She played a voicemail on her cell phone’s speaker: “Hey Chrissy, everything okay? Did you find what you needed from Mom’s stuff? Mike called me, didn’t know you were, sounded worried. Give me a call, alright?”
“Do you think he’ll find us?” I asked.
“What about work? Did you get a thousand voicemails from that office like I did? People are going to find us here. This is the type of reality we usually try to escape as quickly as we can and you don’t want to because of that stupid screen.”
“Look,” I said, showing her the screen. “Watch the screen. I’m drumming in a band. Like in a recording studio or something.”
“Oh my god, Paul. I don’t care. Let’s go.”
Managing to convince her to stay for at least one more day, I will admit my eyes had become glued to the small display. Constantly scrolling through endless different lives I could be living gave me an intense, miserably delightful high.
About a dozen hours later, there was a loud knock at the door. “Christine!” a man yelled, pounding his fist. “Are you in there? Your work said you left with some guy that lives here.”
“It’s that Mike guy,” she scolded. “It’s time to go. Now.”
“Okay, okay…”I begrudgingly retrieved the orange rectangular object. “Come here.”
“Open up!” the man outside hollered.
We held each other’s hand and then each pushed down on the large red button. Click. WHOOSH!
Stay tuned for more Multiverse Adventures with Paul and Sally –
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