I didn’t have to talk much during mealtimes. Kitty went to gloating pretty quickly about our nightly excursions to the rest of the crew. Her humblebrags sparked quite the word-of-mouth endorsement for our DIY dimensional leaping techniques. So much so that I started hosting group sessions down in the Drop.

The next morning after our first leap, Kitty had them hanging on her every word at breakfast.

“Yeah, we just leapt to Donna and Edward’s city,” Kitty regaled, flapping a waffle in her right hand. “We astrally projected, and we were on their planet, in the city of their alma mater where they met. We stopped at the pub.”

“Oh, I miss that place!” Donna reminisced. “But how did you get there, without my dreaming? How did Bill know where to go, or how to even leap to the physical place? I thought it was all in my mind.”

“A lot of good memories in that pub,” Edward added.

“That’s how we found it in reality,” Kitty explained. “Donna’s dream helped Bill tag it. I guess it didn’t matter that you imagined it, Donna. He was able to apply the actual coordinates on the astral plane. Dreams or reality are all the same in the Akashic.”

Gabriel and Jacob were the earliest adopters from Kitty’s tall tales. Several nights after she and I had first leapt, they were down there. They had an idea to get us all to their respective Earth.

***

NEXT UP: Bill, Kitty, Gabriel and Jacob leap to their hometown, where there’s also a tavern (like the city pub). The townspeople collect in this local tavern to tell stories. One particular story is how Jacob and Gabriel access a portal back there. Bill begins to fill the left slice of his Drop, with the living room and front porch leading out to the infinite baseball diamond across the street. They’re in the great town of Shermer, Ill., where Ferris Bueller resides.

As more crew come round to Bill’s after hours outings, the late nights begin to impinge upon the crew’s daily duties. Danny V. and the Captain take notice, and are not happy. There’s friction, but this leads to a higher demand for Bill to lead the crew to the ultimate destination.

***

“Do we have to dream about a place?” Jacob said, intently looking into my eyes upon his first visit to the Drop. He and Gabriel were all in at the sight of the space-time stretch I had performed to fashion my environment optimized for interdimensional leaping.

“Not necessarily,” I said, speculating at that point because I hadn’t done it before without at least two people dreaming of a place. “You said Gabe and you were from the same Earth version, correct?”

“Yeah, same neighborhood, actually,” Jacob answered, turning to Gabriel, who nodded in response.

“We want to go back there,” Gabe interjected, “to visit our buddies at the tavern downtown. We used to meet there every Wednesday, before Jacob and my deployment to the Cheshire black hole missions.”

We were all sitting, Kitty included, in a circle at the epicenter of the Drop, on comfy cushions that buffered our Lotus positions.

“We used to meet there to tell stories,” Jacob added. “Sometimes, they were made up, other times it would be cool shit that had happened to one of us recently. I used to look forward to each Wednesday,” Jacob smiled at Gabriel, both reminiscing.

“Maybe that’s our way in,” I said. “Is there a particular story either of you remember from one particular night? And can both of you recall it, once we found a particularly memorable tale?”

Jacob and Gabriel both looked at each other as if the alternating dilations of their pupils could pass Morse code between them in hopes of retrieving the same request. Oddly enough, that strategy seemed to work.

In unison, the two hetero life mates blurted out: “The Tale of Bryan Florian!”

“Perfect,” I said. “Kitty will listen to both of your accounts separately. Then, we’ll all meet back here, together. At this point, Kitty will have told me both stories, which I will synthesize into one cohesive narrative, which I’ll share with the group. If my version strikes a chord within the overlapping Venn diagram between your two versions, we should be able to pinpoint your Earth, and that bar.”

“When do we get started?” Jacob was all business.

“No night like tonight,” I said.

***

NEXT UP: Bill synthesizes both versions, from Kitty’s reporting. He then spins the tale with the two men in his audience. Bill pays attention to Jacob and Gabriel, as he tells them their story, all the while attuned to their collective memories. Once the retelling resonates with what the two—Jacob and Gabriel—know to be true from that time in the tavern, Bill’s narrative entangles a connection with their desired world. Then, they leap.

The quartet end up attending new Wednesday nights at the tavern, now having established a connection. Bill warms to this storytelling tradition. Perhaps it’s something he and the Cheshire crew could adopt, as a way to recap dimensional excursions. Perhaps the story itself could become the MacGuffin for all their fun.

***

The gentlemen returned to their respective quarters, where Kitty interviewed them individually. I remained in the Drop, meditating. After about an hour or so, Kitty returned to my locale to report. Gabriel and Jacob’s accounts of one Bryan Florian seemed close enough that I could synthesize their collective story. Then, we brought the gentlemen back to the Drop to hear my version, which went like this:

“Bryan Florian was a mysterious fellow, who used to attend your tavern’s Wednesday night get-togethers,” I said, looking directly at Gabriel and Jacob, who granted me their undivided attention, gently nodding. Upon confirmation that I was on the right track, I continued…

“Then, one Wednesday night, Bryan did not show. And every successive Wednesday, the young Mr. Florian’s absence continued. None of the other gentlemen—including you, Gabriel and Jacob—knew where the lad had run off. Rumors abounded. For one, this unannounced exit was uncharacteristic of Bryan, who was a highly social and emotionally intelligent fellow. All of the lads at the tavern felt connected to him. And each took it as a personal affront that he did not make them aware of his departure. In addition to personal stories, Wednesday nights became dedicated to theories as to what happened to Florian. He could have been killed or abducted, some thought. Maybe he got lost in the woods on one of his long, solitary hikes, others suggested. It would take months, even years, to find what remains of Bryan Florian, if for instance, he had fallen into a crevice.”

I looked directly into Jacob, then Gabriel’s eyes, at this moment in the story.

“But that’s not what you, Gabriel, or you, Jacob, considered, was it?” They both agreed. So far, my recount of their tale was accurate.

“You see, the young Mr. Florian was himself an excellent socialite and he knew those woods like the back of his hand. Surely, he hadn’t fallen and it was unlikely he had been killed. His superior emotional intellect would have detected any foul play far before allowing himself to become a victim to this evil. No, Bryan Florian was too smart for any of those fates. In fact, leaving the town of Shermer without so much as a notice—his house left like he had just stepped out to get a pizza—all of these symptoms alluded to a more profound outcome indeed,” the air in the Drop crackled, releasing light static electricity, as Jacob and Gabriel’s gaze upon my storytelling racked on even more of an in-depth focus. Their reassurance encouraged me to continue with fervor.

“Given your background in black hole science, Gabe and Jacob, you knew that another fate was possible for Bryan Florian,” I said, smiling.

“That’s right,” Jacob chimed in. “Florian was a genius, and we knew he had been dabbling with some extra-dimensional experimentation.”

“Right,” I said. “One thing that Mr. Florian had told you two, Jacob and Gabriel, in confidence before his unceremonious departure was that, if he ever disappeared for seemingly no reason whatsoever, it could be due to this experimentation. By his mind alone, he had been conceiving of alternate dimensions within the confines of his quiet home. Zen was his study, as his mind’s eye whisked to far-flung destinations by the fuel of pure thought. And if he ever disappeared from this quaint town, he had discovered an ancient, sacred spell by his focused intention that opened a portal to another world. Bryan understood the power of the word. If this day ever occurred in his quaint home, Bryan Florian would step into the new world, leaving everything and everyone he knew behind.”

Jacob and Gabriel held ear-to-ear grins across their faces, at this point. I had told their tale to their liking, as the crackling in the air got louder.

“We never heard from him again,” Gabriel said. “But we always thought that maybe he’d stepped into one of these new worlds. It’s what actually influenced us to study black holes,” he said, looking over at his colleague Jacob, who nodded in agreement. “Although the odds are astronomical, we always thought that maybe we’d bump into him again.”

“So ends the tale (for now) of Bryan Florian,” I said. “In the retelling of this story from both your perspectives, gentlemen, I too felt like I’ve been in the tavern these Wednesday nights pondering the whereabouts of one Bryan Florian. Lets all sit in a circle now, on these lotus pillows, and collectively chart a course to your town of Shermer,” I was now almost yelling over the air snap, crackle, pops, “…and I’ll teach you how to astral leap, Jacob and Gabe.”

The two gentlemen and Kitty all complied. As we sat and meditated, I continued my instruction, as an overlapping vortex of our collective memories shimmered above our crowns.

“Our mantra is Shermer,” I said. “With intent, us four shall leap to this desired destination… and attend a Wednesday night story session at the tavern. Gentlemen, brace yourselves for a homecoming.”

***

NEXT UP: Bill and crew visit Shermer by their collective astral leap. This marks two firsts: traveling with three other people, and leaping to a new destination lucidly, without the aid of dreaming. Bill’s getting better.

***