Changes by Dorothy Davies

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(Dorothy Davies)


Changes

 

Table Of Contents

 

 

Deadly Threshold - Marise Morland

Life Changes - Dorothy Davies

Sing A Dry Song - Rickey Rivers Jr

The Service Call - Edward Ahern

Mini-Mart - Thomas M Malafarina

All and One - Rickey Rivers Jr

Mother's Child - Diane Arrelle

Reflected Glory - Dorothy Davies

Grooming - Wendy Lynn Newton

Love Spells Trouble - SJ Townend

Of Birth - And Death - Dorothy Davies

Coming Of Age - Paul Edwards

Dream Catcher -Rickey Rivers Jr

The Sea And The Statues - Paul Edwards

Time's Up - Liam A Spinage

 


 

 

Deadly Threshold

 

Marise Morland

 

26.10.62

 

"All this will soon be gone," Lynn said mournfully.

"It won't happen," said Ross with all the authority of his sixteen years. "There won't be a nuclear war. Kennedy and Khruschev will back down."

"I didn't mean them. I meant - this." She drew an arc in the air.

They were sitting on the remains of a wall, overlooking a wilderness which had once been carefully tended flowerbeds. Some stubborn perennials still flourished amid weeds, grasses and nettles. Close by, a sycamore and lilac bush vied for supremacy. Further off, fronting the main road, stood four empty houses, awaiting demolition.

In the centre of the right-hand plot were two scattered heaps of gravel and sand. Old Mr. Cubbage in the end house had been about to lay a path when the compulsory purchase order arrived. He'd downed tools in anger and never set foot in the garden again. Two doors along, a patterned vase stood proudly in an empty bedroom window, its faded gilt paint catching the rays of the setting sun. This, the last owner had explained, was to signify that her home was still loved and would be, until the last brick fell.

"Alice's café will be next," Lynn continued. "Then the pub and our street. We'll probably be sent to opposite ends of Wycombe."

"I'll visit you."

"No you won't. You'll be working in London. With computers."

"I never mentioned London."

"It stands to reason. There aren't any computers round here."

"Oh, I think there are one or two," murmured Ross, raising his eyes to the opposite hilltop.

From the valley, little could be seen of the USAF base save for two masts, black against the evening sky, a baleful red light atop each one. Lynn glared at them.

"It won't happen," Ross repeated. Then, apparently changing the subject: "Have you heard of the Many Worlds Interpretation?"

"Is that more of your science fiction?"

"No, a scientific theory. There could be many realities similar to this one, occupying the same time and space. We'd never see them, of course."

"And your point is...?"

"That there might be another Wycombe where old Fred got to finish his path and Mrs. Denney and her vases didn't part company. The council will have given everyone grants to get their roofs repaired, instead of demolishing whole streets."

Lynn was silent for a time. "Then why aren't we in that version?"

"Maybe we're in both. Maybe you're the computer expert and I'm... whatever you decide to be. Had any more thoughts on that?"

"Not yet. Ask me next week - if we're still here."

"Ross! Dinner!" called his mother, three doors away.

Lynn remained where she was after he left, watching the rooks settle in the stand of oaks to the west. It had been such a beautiful autumn. Still was. Suddenly, distantly, she heard music; Brian Hyland's "Sealed with a Kiss." It seemed to come from the direction of Alice Heydon's café, which was puzzling. Alice had a battered old radio permanently tuned to the Home Service. When Lynn pushed branches aside for a closer look, the light streaming from the open back door was neon white, not the usual uncertain yellow.

Lynn took a few more steps forward and paused, astonished. The tired interior of the café was gone and in its place was a traditional American diner: chequered floor, bar stools, shiny chrome fixtures and a Wurlitzer. Everything looked brand new. Had Alice sold her business? Who'd have bought the café when the entire row was due to come down? More to the point, how had the new venue been installed with no sounds of building work?

The room had one occupant, a girl of around Lynn's age, blonde hair tied high in bunches. She wore a pink and white candy-striped dress with a flared skirt and plain pink bodice embellished with seed pearls. "I opened the door and here you are!" she said, somewhat obscurely. "I'm Sadie. Sadie Nevins." She had a warm, confiding American accent which didn't match her faintly aloof gaze.

"I'm Lynn Taylor."

"I know. I've seen you outside with your boyfriend. Ross, I believe."

"He's my neighbour," Lynn said defensively.

"Boyfriend," Sadie insisted. "And he's cute. You should bring him with you next time."

Lynn ignored this. "Is this diner for US personnel?"

"Well, natch."

"Then where are they?"

Sadie looked away. "The base is on alert. Cuba."

"But you still have permission to be out?"

"If my dad says it's OK, then it's OK. He's Lieutenant General Ira Nevins, in charge of Pine Tree Base."

"Pine Tree? It hasn't been called that since the war."

"There's always a war somewhere," Sadie said airily. "Let's have some more music. Can you do the Loco-Motion?"

"No."

"Then c'mon, I'll show you." She pressed keys on the juke box and proceeded to chug around the empty tables. "See? It's easy. Do you like my dress? It's from Saks. My mom sent it over. She's still in New York - my folks are divorced. But hey, we've got Saks catalogues at the base so why don't I bring you one? If you see anything you like I'll say it's for me and get Mom to send it."

"Oh, I'm not sure..." began Lynn, bemused by Sadie's rapid-fire chatter.

"Listen, I've just had a great idea. We could do one of those - what are they called - cultural exchanges. You could go see New York and I could stay with your mom."

This was getting alarming.

"I'm in my last year at school," Lynn improvised. "I've got exams, important ones. Maybe once I've left..."

"I'd really like that," Sadie went on as if she hadn't heard. "Your little street, your gardens, they're so - English!"

"I have to go," Lynn said firmly. "It's my dinnertime."

"But you'll come again tomorrow," persisted Sadie. "Bring Ross."

"I'll mention it to him," Lynn said neutrally and stepped out of the door. The music stopped abruptly. Once she'd regained the lane, she looked back. There was no neon light, only the tangle of trees and what appeared in the twilight to be the outline of Alice's café.