Hot off resonating with Earth_42, I thought it could be good to acquaint myself with the other versions of Earth attached to my sphere of a Drop, my home base for surfing the multiverse. Whenever I leapt to another reality from the launch point of one of these nearby worlds, the planet’s unique personality—Their vibe—would color the voyage like a cinematographer’s tinted lens.
The collective entrances to these worlds I nicknamed the “Holiday Doors.” It was an homage to the festive portals in A Nightmare Before Christmas. Specifically, the scene where Jack Skellington flees Halloween Town, through the Hinterlands forest, until he arrives at a small clearing in the trees. This field’s surrounded by holiday doors embedded into tree trunks, each representing prominent holidays—Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick’s Day, etc.
My circular Drop was like this clearing. As I stood at the center, each Earth version that sat at even clock positions—10, 12, 2, 4, 6 and 8—were each a holiday door for us to enter, assuming an entirely unique vibe to that world that colored all successive destinations.
Earth_Suburban
In the 10 position of my Drop’s clock face (if looking overhead) sat Earth_Suburban, Jacob and Gabe’s native planet. The entrance point from my Drop opened into a quaint living room, with a large-screen TV hanging over a fireplace, opposite of which were a couple of plush couches.
Every Wednesday night, we’d enter this Earth via Jacob and Gabe’s home that was connected to my Drop. We’d walk out the front door, down the hill to Shermer’s town center. That’s where the tavern lied. We’d then enter the pub and swiftly move to the establishment’s discreet back room. We liked to keep the fact that we were inter-dimensional travelers close to the vest to the majority of these townsfolk. Only the boys in the back room who participated in our weekly storytelling tradition knew our true origins.
One evening, as we walked down to the town, it occurred to me that I had not prepared a good anecdote for the night’s roundtable. The first thought that popped into mind following this sobering realization was a memory of Earth_42’s spirit, Gaia. Not because She could help me out of my current predicament, but if She existed as the avatar for that Earth, there must be one for Jacob and Gabe’s suburban Earth.
It takes but a moment between seconds to leap. So, sprung from the walk downtown, in a trance-like daze I channeled a higher reality from the ground and projected up to that new platform. I returned less than a second later on Earth_Suburban. The guys didn’t even notice I was gone, but Kitty did.
“Did you just go somewhere?” she said, upon my conscious return to Earth_Suburban’s ground.
“I needed a story for tonight’s session,” I said. “I just asked the planet what’s been going on lately and He pointed me in a few directions, but I don’t want to spoil it. You’ll just have to listen, when it’s my turn tonight!”
That brief, nearly negligible moment, which among crew in our company walking down only Kitty noticed, had lasted several weeks for my relative timeline. Let’s start at the beginning…
I was walking down to the tavern. Mid-stride, I launched my astral self out of my physical body and spun up into the hyper reality of Earth_Suburban. Like I had accomplished on Earth_42 tapping into the very essence of the planet, imbibing on a concoction composed of the many planetary flora to become one with Her spirit, I took to comprehending Earth_Suburban.
Once accomplished, the result, however, was not the beaufiful Gaia. Instead, the larger than life entity that stood before me more resembled Charles Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Present. He was a boisterous, jovial fellow who stood 13 feet if He was a foot.
“Well if it isn’t Bill Thunderbird!” He bellowed. “Nice to finally meet you in person. You can call me Father Earth.”
“Earth spirit,” I said, still in my astral state, “it’s so nice to finally meet you too. I’ve enjoyed your planet for years, but now I’ve finally cracked through the surface.”
“Yes!” He said. “I’ve enjoyed the many wonderful stories you and your crew have brought to my planetary face. What is it now that you wish to ask me?”
“Your intuition serves you well, sir,” I said. “I’m here with you in your magnificent palace to inquire about just that, a good story, or at least the seedlings of one. Any people of interest or intriguing happenings that have occurred recently of note?”
“Hmmmm,” He said, as He stroked his long, lustrous, red beard, above which a crown of leaves sat atop His giant head. “Well, not sure I can deliver you a complete tale, but seedlings yes.”
Father Earth would go on to explain that He had sensed a burgeoning energy, a certain magic field permeating his world not too long after myself and my crew began visiting. I couldn’t help but think this phenomenon was the rippling result from inter-dimensional residue—perhaps the Cheshire crew’s 5th-dimensional travel had thinned the relative spacetime of this Earth—but I kept my mouth shut as He continued.
“I’ve noticed among my earthlings an increasing curiosity and wonderment. A growing majority have lessened their dependence on modern technology like smartphones to pick up analog alternatives like a good book. They’re relying less on the internet to tell them what’s going on and have resolved to venture out and talk to their neighbors. The internet had shined too much light on my Earth’s surface. It became blinding and noisy and distracting. These darker, more mysterious, more interesting pockets that have emerged in the internet’s place supply these curious earthlings with a magic possibility I haven’t witnessed in decades. More local newspapers are sprouting up. I’ve even seen a few live radio stations reopen, as the demand for this analog mass communication has increased. I can’t quite put my finger on what has transformed on my Earth. And, frankly, I don’t dare question it. I don’t want this magic feeling to disapper again.”
I thanked Father Earth for His invaluable wisdom keying into the status quo of His planet, and then I was off. Centering on Earth_Suburban, I surfed all 4th-dimensional points about His surface now equipped with the lens He had provided. I located some of these local newspapers and radio stations resurging upon a formerly digital landscape. When I returned to my crew walking down to the town and into the tavern’s back room, I delivered this tale to the boys, as the warm, overhanging lamps lit up the center of the floor:
“Gentlemen, tonight I’ll tell you a tale of your own Earth,” I said.
I heard a few groans from the crowd because they usually liked to hear our reports from other dimensions.
“Hold on, hold on,” I said. “I think you’ll like this story. It’s about a burgeoning movement occurring right now on your planet. A few years ago, the internet had all but wiped out local newspapers. They were on the verge of going extinct. But recently, new local weeklies have sprouted almost spontaneously. There seems to be a general sentiment in these areas to slow down their way of life. No more 24-hour news cycle. Instead, these local outlets have resolved to carefully select the community stories they wish to cover. They’ve empowered their reporters to disclose the news they think the public should know, rather than just what they think their readers want to hear. The result? A better informed public who now have a greater sense of community and trust in their local news sources.”
“I haven’t noticed this yet, Bill,” I heard a lone voice call out from the crowd shrouded in darkness.
“No?” I said. “Well, just two towns over one such weekly has emerged. I met with the editor to find out what prompted this return to sound journalism. He said, after engaging in yet another infinite death scroll on his phone one day, a feeling crept up to mind—that this hyper-connected digital world had left him feeling more isolated than ever. He longed for the old days, when he was confident that people actually read stories in the local newspaper. He missed the looming ceiling of wonder that has now been replaced by instant info gratification. He sensed that his fellow brethren and sistren had lost their ability to dream. So he procured funding to launch a local newspaper in his town once again. Within weeks, readership skyrocketed to nearly the town’s entire adult population. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one sensing this deficit in cultivating daily living. And I’m on good record to note that this phenomenon has spread to neighboring towns. Next thing you know, Shermer will have a local weekly, as well.”
And, sure enough, the daily pace of Shermer eventually slowed as weeks rolled on. They had joined the growing movement to lean back on more trusty, analog technology like newspapers and radio. They avoided the black mirror of computer tech, whose event horizon acted as a point of no return, since beyond which humanity would have lost their identity.
Earth_Guillermo
In the 12-o’clock spot of my Drop hung Guillermo’s jungle Earth. This was his native planet, whose essence he had already tapped. Whenever I’d need to leap to a world tangential from this reality, I’d usually take Guillermo along with me to interpret his world’s message. We’d dip behind the Drop’s waterfall and enter a lush, green, jungle tunnel lined with leafy vines that teemed with Amazonian fauna.
“What has your Earth said to you recently?” I said to Guillermo once, as we walked along his forest’s floor.
“The trees have been talking to me,” he said. “They’re among the oldest life on this planet’s surface. Their interlinking mycelium network has absorbed all known animal life thus far.”
“Any interesting developments?” I said.
“Ah, yes. These sprawling plants, some of whom have lived eons, find the fleeting animal species that climb about their branches so comical. Since the animals’ lifetimes last but an instant compared to the lifespan of these plants, the matters that concern these animals seem trivial. And they’ve been asking me for ways to reach these animals, who flit their short lives away on pipe dreams. I’ve been working with the flora, then, to translate the plants’ messages to these infantile fauna.”
The jungle Earth, in Her remote serenity was also the perfect launch pad to spring toward a place of complete peace. From Earth_Guillermo I could access pristine planets untouched by imbalance.
Earth_CityFlat
Donna and Edward, whose city flat occupied the 2-position on the clock face of my Drop, were also mystics like Guillermo, but hadn’t tapped their Earth’s essence yet. So I communed with the local flora of Earth_CityFlat’s ecosystem. I imbibed the floral concoction that contained plant life from all corner’s of Her globe. And, just like I had accomplished with Earth_42 and Earth_Suburban, I became one with this world. The resultant Earth spirit revealed Herself to me, Ariadne. She was as beautiful as Earth_42’s Gaia, but assumed a more modern appearance—bohemian, with thick-rimmed glasses, ear gauges and a septum nose ring. She wore a smart, flowing, flowery dress with sneakers.
“Hi!” She said. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve tapped into your planetary essence, Ariadne, for information,” I said. “There may be times when I need to key into certain phenomena occurring on your surface.”
“Sure! I’m here if you need me.”
And I did.
Donna and Edward were notorious for dragging Kitty and me to whatever play was running in their city flat’s village neighborhood, aptly nicknamed “The Village,” like in New York City. We’d all enter through the 2-position of my Drop, into their quaint apartment den, down the many flights of their apartment building, out onto the street and to the playhouse a few blocks away.
One evening, I found myself sat in the audience of a particularly boring snoozer. It was some one-man play about the creation story, I think. I don’t know; I wasn’t really paying attention. I let my mind wander and, then, almost involuntarily, my astral self leapt out of my physical body. I was hovering 10 feet above the crowd, but no one could see this energetic self. Kitty could probably sense it, but she didn’t say anything. Under this force field cloak, I formed my electromagnetic orb and whisked to higher reality where I could commune with Ariadne.
“Nice to see you again!” she said, in Her clever penthouse that oversaw all occurrence of Earth_CityFlat.
“Yes, likewise,” I said. “My physical self is stuck watching some boring play right now. I was wondering if you had caught wind of any more interesting events or moments that I could experience.”
“Of course! The city is always teeming with activity. I could refer you to this secret speakeasy on Bleecker Street, or rather an alley off that avenue. A new musical form has also taken shape in a northern neighborhood. It’s evolved from modern music, the way hip hop evolved from rock ‘n’ roll, jazz and R & B back in the ’70s and ’80s. I’ve also heard through the grapevine that Banksy has landed on city soil, clandestinely creating art installations all over town for the next few weeks.”
“They all sound amazing,” I said. “Thank you.”
And like that, I slipped into that speakeasy (the password was “Schnikeys”); I located the visionaries behind this recent musical evolution and suggested they publish a new music magazine not unlike hip hop’s The Source to chronicle this burgeoning art form and all its salient players; I found the elusive Banksy (yes, versions of the graffiti artist existed on both Earth_42 and Earth_CityFlat, among others) leveraging extra-dimensional abilities privy to only a Thunderbird. You’ll never guess his real identity, but I promised to keep that secret tucked away in the Thunderbird vault.
This all occurred over the course of about a week or two, I’d say, relative to my own timeline. But relative to my colleagues who were still relegated to this playhouse audience, I made it back before the cast’s curtain call. To them, it was like I had never left.
Of course, upon my astral return, Kitty leaned over to me and whispered, “Hope you had fun. I’m so jealous.”
I told her we’ll have to come up with a way for her to join me next time.
Earth_Ocean
I also didn’t need to tap into the essence of Ron and Rachael’s Earth, Earth_Ocean, which sat in the 4-o’clock position of my Drop. That’s because the sea was the main focal point of this world and I had already met Poseidon.
My Drop’s entrance to this world comprised of Ron and Rachael’s favorite harbor restaurant. From my Drop’s hyperposition, you could see the restaurant’s main dining area and bar lounge. We’d often eat breakfast in the little nook I tucked just below the restaurant’s kitchen that overlooked the harbor. After many a meal, we’d set sail from this world entrance, into the briny waters, which made it increasingly easier to summon the ocean god the further we pushed off coast.
“How are you, Bill?” Poseidon said, as we set our skooner to cruise well out on the open waters one day.
“Good, good, your grace. Any new tales from the sea?”
Poseidon’s head had emerged on our starboard bow. Its diameter surpassed that of our entire boat’s length. His chuckling in response to my question created waves that rocked us gently.
“Yesss!” He said. “The sea is always moving in constant renewal. With each crest on the water comes new development. We could talk about the unidentified submersibles (USOs) that this planet’s humanity have yet to detect. We could also check in with the whales, who are more intelligent than any other animals on planet. The sea, my friend, is quite literally your oyster.”
“Let’s explore them all,” I said, with a smile.
Earth_42
The 6 position of my orb-like Drop was where the back door sat. It also represented the current planet I piloted through the movierain multiverse, as a droplet among torrents. Earth_42 was in the 6-o’clock position these days. Forty-two also paid homage to Douglas Adams and his book The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which stated that the number 42 was the answer to the meaning of life. This Earth that carried the 42 moniker, therefore, was my current proving ground to explore the Earth computer contemplating what this life was all about. I had become one with this Earth and sailed Her to other planetary versions to expand our collective understanding of what it meant to be alive. Articulating the meaning of life was too profound for the human tongue; it had to be experienced.
Earth_Baseball
Finally, in the 8-o’clock position of my Drop sat what I had coined Earth_Baseball, since it contained an infinite baseball diamond across the street from my entrance to that world. It’s also the home planet of Kitty and Keith. I didn’t need to tap the essence of this particular planet, since Kitty was well on her way to becoming a Thunderbird herself. Eventually, she would be my contact for this Earth version the way our resident shaman could counsel me on Earth_Guillermo at 12 o’clock.
Still, I’d venture into this world to access all of the other Earths I had discovered. The infinite baseball diamond provided the perfect rolodex to reference my growing catalogue of planets.
Say I had to quickly hop to Earth_Letterman. Well, I’d dial into a local Mets game on that planet. I’d set the box score to a specific date and time where a Mets game occurred on Earth_Letterman. And voila. The diamond became a portal to that world from my Drop’s 8-o’clock position.
I’d check in periodically with Letterman in between worlds on my Earths Beat. Earth_Letterman was one of a dozen regular stops.
The other Earths I had strung along this reliable baseball portal technique included:
Earth_Berkeley
I’d check in often to see how Prof. O’Halleran’s students were progressing in their spontaneously burgeoning Thunderbirdcraft.
Earth_PeaceProject
I had to see how my boys, the Crows, were doing. They were still keeping an eye on this Earth that had newly established peace.
Earth_Home
I returned to tell Stacy that her world was but one of a dozen Earths I had since discovered. I would ask one of the other 11 if they had any suggestions to cure Earth_Home’s woes.
Earth_3.14159×10^100
Every now and then, I’d pop in on my old editor Buddy Schumer at the Gainsville Gazette and the rest of the newspaper’s staff. But this wasn’t the first Earth where I had held a newspaper gig…
Earth_Analog2020
I’d visit the Herald’s newsroom where I used to report. It was always nice to return to my first beat!
From any one of these dozen Earths, I’d mount leaps to discover new revelations on existence. The Earths in all Their splendid versions, as a superpositioned microcosm, supplied the sandbox by which we elevated our local consciousness. And it was no coincidence that these 12 Earths resembled the 12 notes of the musical staff. I’d often leap between these worlds, playing their notes, stringing them together like chords, harmonizing realities to reveal inconceivable possibilities.
If you liked this tale from the Big Cat, you can also read His eponymous novel.
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