Through the Medicine Cabinet (2 page)

“Have you ever heard of Newer York?” he said.

“Is that up near Poughkeepsie?” I asked.

He sighed and rolled his eyes like I had just said the stupidest thing in the world. I had a sudden thought.

“Hey,” I said, “is this something. really weird that I'm going to be sorry I got myself involved in?”

“I have time for just one more question,” he said. “And then I have to go.”

“OK,” I said. “Do you have my retainer? I think it fell on your side.”

He suddenly tried to slam the door. But I was too fast for him. I stuck my arm into the medicine cabinet. That stopped him from shutting it. He grabbed my hand and tried to pry it off the door. I grabbed his wrist.

“Let go!” he shouted.

“Not till you give me my retainer!”

He tried to pull away. I held on tight. He backed up. I hung on with both hands. He pulled me through the medicine cabinet. Then we both fell onto the floor in his bathroom.

“Now you've done it!” he shouted. “Now you've really done it!” He looked fright - ened.

“Done what?” I asked.

“The one thing nobody is ever supposed to do,” he said.

“What's that?” I asked.

“Cross over into a parallel universe!”

 

 

 

“
W
hat the heck is a parallel universe?” I asked.

Zeke looked around nervously.

“Shhhh!” he shouted. “Somebody might hear you!”

“You're the one who's shouting,” I said. “What the heck is a parallel universe?”

“Well, it's kind of like this,” said Zeke. “Our universe is right next to yours. It's so close you wouldn't believe it. It even takes up some of the same space as yours. Only you can't usually see us. Except on Opening Days. Like today.”

“Today isn't Opening Day,” I said. “The baseball season doesn't start for a couple months yet.”

Zeke sighed and shook his head.

“The kind of Opening Day I'm talking about,” he said, “has nothing to do with baseball. It's when your universe and mine move right next to each other. It doesn't happen a lot. It'll be years before it happens again.”

“Sort of like an eclipse?” I asked.

“Sort of,” he said. “When it's Opening Day, we can look through certain openings, like a medicine cabinet. Then we can see your universe. Which, by the way, isn't any better than ours.”

“I didn't say it was better,” I said. “Did I say it was better?”

“Maybe not. But I bet that's what you were thinking,” he said. “We've got everything you've got. And it's just as good, believe me. Maybe even better.”

“OK, OK!” I said. Then I picked myself up off the floor. I got my first good look at the parallel universe in Zeke's bathroom.

Hmmmm.

It looked pretty much the same as mine. Only different. First of all, there was something odd about the sink. There were two faucets. But they were marked Cold and Not So Cold.

Then I looked at the roll of toilet paper by the toilet. It looked like sandpaper. I hoped I wouldn't be in the parallel universe long enough to have to use the bathroom.

I noticed there was a lot of water on the floor. When I glanced at the shower I saw why. Instead of a shower curtain, there were venetian blinds.

“So what's Newer York like?” I asked.

“Outstanding,” he said.

“How many channels do you get on TV?” I asked.

He looked at me suspiciously.

“You get more than one channel?” he asked.

“Never mind,” I said.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything in the Big Banana is as good as anything you've got in New York.”

“Oh, you call Newer York the Big Banana,” I said. “Like we call New York the Big Apple.”

“Bananas are a lot cooler fruit than apples,” he said.

“Look,” I- said, “I'm sure everything in your universe is every bit as cool as ours, OK? Now can I have my retainer? And then will you please help me cross back over?”

“Zeke, are you packing?” The voice sounded a lot like my dad's.

“Yeah, Dad!” Zeke called back.

“Well, hurry up! The cab is coming at 8:00.”

I looked at Zeke strangely.

“You're going somewhere with your dad?” I asked.

“Yeah. We have to catch a plane.”

I got a sudden dizzy feeling.

“Your dad isn't by any chance taking you to the training camp of the New York Yankees, is he?” I asked.

“No.”

“Well,
that's
a relief,” I said.

“He's taking me to the training camp of the Newer York Yunkees. They're a triple-A minor league team. But they're just as good as the Yankees.”

“Oh my gosh,” I said softly. “Your life is just the same as mine, except a little different, isn't it?”

“Well, duh!” he said. “That's what a parallel universe is, Zack.” He sounded like he was talking to a fourth-grader. I didn't appreciate that, since I happen to be in the fifth grade. “You want to know the truth? I'm a little tired of living in the one that's the copy and not the one that's the original.”

“You are? But you just said—”

“Never mind what I said. I may live in a parallel universe. But I'm not stupid. Don't you think I'd rather be going to see the Yankees train than the Yunkees?”

“I can't hear you, Zeke!” called his dad. “Are you talking to me?”

“No, to myself!” he shouted. Then to me he said, “Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't we switch places? I'll go to the Yankees' training camp with your dad. You can go to the Yunkees' with mine.”

“No way,” I said.

“Never mind,” he said. “I didn't want to do it anyway.”

“Have you packed your retainer yet?” called Zeke's dad.

“Don't worry about it!” Zeke answered nervously.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Don't tell me you can't find your retainer either!”

“So what?” he said.

This was freaking me out.

“Zeke,” called his dad. He sounded like he was right outside the door. “Are you in there?”

Zeke looked scared.

“We can't let him see you here,” he whispered. “You've got to hide!”

“Where?”

“Here.”

He led me to the bathtub. He pulled back the blinds and pushed me inside. Then I heard him open and close the medicine cabinet door. And then nothing. What was he up to?

I looked at my watch. I had only a half hour before our cab came. What was I doing hiding in a bathtub in a parallel universe? And how was I ever going to get back to mine?

I peeked through the blind. Zeke was nowhere in sight. And then I knew.

That little rat had sneaked back through the medicine cabinet door into my universe!

 

 

 

I
was in a panic.

At this very minute, Zeke was pretending to be me. He was getting ready to leave with my dad for the Yankee training camp in Florida!

I heard a knock at the bathroom door.

“Zeke, did you hear me? Are you ready?” said his father's voice.

I held my breath.

The door opened. Zeke's father came into the bathroom. Just then I sneezed.

“Achooooo!”

“Zeke? Are you in the shower?”

“No, sir,” I said.

The blinds were pulled up. There stood a dad who looked almost exactly like mine.

At first I was scared he might be mad. But then he began to laugh.

“What are you doing in the shower with your clothes on?” he asked.

“Resting,” I said.

“There's no time for resting, Zeke. Our cab is coming in about half an hour. Have you got your retainer? Are you all packed?”

“Pretty much,” I said.

He looked at me oddly and frowned.

“You look a little different, son. Did you comb your hair a new way this morning?”

“Yes, sir. I did. That's exactly what I did.”

“Uh huh. OK. Well, I still have a few things to do. Zeke, could you run to the dry cleaners quickly and pick up all our cleaning?”

The cleaners! The only place I wanted to go was back through the medicine cabinet. But what could I say?

“Uh, s-sure,” I stammered. “What cleaners would that be again?”

“You know. The one across the street and down the block.”

“Uh huh. And what block would that be again?”

He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“C'on,” he said. “You've gone there lots of times. Just get going. We have to leave soon.”

“OK,” I said.

He handed me a receipt and a twenty-dollar bill. Then he walked out of the bathroom.

The twenty-dollar bill looked strange. It was enormous. And when I examined it closely, I saw that along the top it said “The Untied States of America.” The picture on all the twenty-dollar bills I've seen is of Andrew Jackson. This one was of somebody with bushy hair, a beard, and nose-glasses. His name was Slappy Kupperman.

I left the apartment and went down in the elevator. Then I got outside. I wanted to get to the cleaners and back as fast as I could.

At the corner I waited for traffic to stop. It was taking forever. Then I looked up at the traffic signal and I saw why. Instead of a red and a green light, there were four lights.

The lights said, “STOP,” “NOT YET,” “HOLD ON,” and “OK, GO ALREADY.”

Newer York sure was a weird place.

A big billboard to my right said, “WE LOVE NEWER YORK! JUST AS GOOD AS NEW YORK. MAYBE BETTER!” Well, I didn't think so. I wanted to get back to my own universe.

I did manage to find the cleaners. I got Zeke's dad's clothes. Then I beat it out of there. I went back down the block. But I must have gotten messed up somehow. Because when I got to the corner, the big billboard should have been to my left. But it wasn't there at all.