Twisting Topeka (6 page)

A small section of the library called
Kansas History drew me close. My mother had spoken about an
ancestor, Carrie Nation. She was a woman involved in the Temperance
movement in Topeka. During the 1900’s, she was known to take on
drinking, head-on and with a hatchet. She was a feisty woman for
her day. I remember my mother saying, “We Nations have rebellion in
our blood.”

I stumbled upon a book with a
black-and-white picture of Carrie Nation. Something about seeing
her face called to me. It almost felt like there was an electric
current in my blood. I pictured the image of this woman, swinging a
hatchet around a bar, and smiled. She was the kind of woman I
wished I could be: emboldened, radical, free.

A massive bang and a click woke me
from my daydreams. I heard laughing from the hallway. I had a sick
feeling in my stomach that I knew what had happened. In fact, I
almost didn’t want to try the handle for fear it would confirm what
my gut already told me: I had been locked in.

There were no cameras in this room,
and few ventured here. I knew I would be found eventually and
probably within an hour. Once classes started back after lunch,
then the monitors would note my absence. When I was found, I
couldn’t say I did it to myself. Nor could I rat on my cohorts.
Defeated, I slid down against the wall and sat on the
floor.

As I was flipping through the pages, a
sheet of paper fell from the book still in my hand. It was strange
that I had not noticed it earlier. It was a yellow piece of paper
folded in half. I could tell there was writing on the
inside.

I opened it up to read the word
“Freedom.”

There was a crackle in the air. The
hairs on my legs, arms and neck all seemed to stand up at once. If
I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have sworn the ground shifted
to the left and then the right. My ears popped, and my stomach did
a flip. Then, two things happened at once. A strange and powerful
light appeared, and suddenly someone was in the room with
me.

“
Turia? Turia?” A voice
called to me. It was my voice, yet I hadn’t spoken out
loud.

I looked up and focused in on eyes
that were only too familiar. A hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me
to my feet.

“
Freaky. Absolutely,
freaky. We do look exactly alike,” said the familiar
voice.

It was true. It was me standing in
front of me. Same height. Same brown hair. Same brown eyes; my nose
and my chin. It was unbelievable. I started to talk but was
interrupted rather quickly.

“
Okay, I am sure you don’t
know what to say. I get it. I am just going to come out and say it.
My name is Turia Shepherd Nation. I was born February 17, 2030, in
Topeka, KS. And, I am you. Well, I mean, the other you. I live in
an alternative universe. Yes, parallels worlds are real. And, in my
world, time travel exists. We haven’t perfected it yet. But, it has
been around for a while.”

It was strange how much I was
following what she was saying. I mean this situation was bizarre;
but at the same time, I felt in my bones that she was telling the
truth. There was something so genuine and confident about the other
me. She brought me a sense of relief and peace. I couldn’t help but
trust her.

“
Okay, how do you know
about this world? Have you been here before?” I asked.

I was a little surprised that it was
my first question, as though I were blindly accepting the time
travel theory as law. Why was I so calm?

“
Right, okay,” the other
Turia continued. “Yes, I have been here before. Actually, a few
times. I read about it in the books in this area. I can’t always
stay long. I mean, with time travel there is a one goes, one comes
rule. Meaning I can’t stay in a world unless someone switches
places with me. The someone has to be my other–or you. Bad things
happen to the people who don’t follow the one goes, one comes rule.
Let’s just say it gets ugly.”

“
So, there just happens to
be a hole between our worlds in this building?”

“
It is a leak more than a
hole, and it is in this book, not the entire building. A time leak
isn’t supposed to happen, but they do from time to time. Generally,
my government finds the holes and fixes them. Mainly because they
don’t want an unexpected traveler crossing over. Again, it is the
whole one goes, one comes rule. But, here we are a few months
later, meeting for the first time. It almost seems like fate,
right?”

“
Months! You have been
traveling back and forth for months?”

“
Well, really it has been
weeks. When I first stepped over it was September 9th. I believe it
was your first day here. I was drawn to you, or I sensed you were
close. I was curious. Who you were, what you did, you know,
everything. I wasn’t sure if we should meet, but I just couldn’t
help it. I can feel this connection to you. It is strange, but it’s
like we are twins or sisters. I just had to meet you.”

I thought back over the last few weeks
trying to remember anything unusual. She said she was drawn to me.
For once in a long time, I felt important or unique. She was
everything I wanted to be--A real Nation with rebellion in her
blood!

“
I want to help you out.
How about we trade places for a few weeks? Maybe I can help you
change your status around here. I am good at standing out, but
fitting in. And you, well, you get to experience life in another
world. My world is so different. Science, technology, life, love –
it is alive and thriving. Anyone has the freedom to do whatever
they want. You don’t have the government setting a life for you
before you are even 18. You don’t have the pressure of trying to
socialize with people like Lysa. I think it would be good for you
to see things from a different perspective.”

Her perfect words struck me at an
imperfect time. My mind was made up the second I met the other me.
Honestly, I don’t think I ever considered saying no to her
offer.

So, the truth is easy to guess now: I
am writing all of this down from the alternative world. I took the
other Turia up on her offer. We switched places and decided on a
date and time that we would meet back at the time leak. I would go
to the other Turia’s world, the world of time travel. The other
Turia would go to my world and experience my Test Year.

As soon as I went through the time
leak and exchanged places, the portal seemed to seal completely. At
first, I thought maybe it would just reopen later and especially on
the chosen date and time. Like perhaps the time leak was listening
and would save the date in its mind. But, before I could take more
than five steps outside of the library, I was surrounded,
handcuffed and transported to a facility called the Menninger
Clinic where I met Dr. Malcolm.

You see, the other Turia was right.
Her world, or this world, is trying to perfect time travel. In
fact, they are in the final phase of their research: the human
trials. I am human subject #006. Apparently, they have completed
this testing with five other subjects with varying degrees of
success. For each trial, they were able to collate a database of
information referencing a new world. That is how the other Turia
knew so much about me and my universe. They coached her (or coerced
her) into doing what she did.

Dr. Malcolm told me how the other
Turia was chosen due to her extensive criminal record. By being
involved in the human trials, she was given a chance at freedom,
even if it brought death. If they treated her the way they are
treating me now, then I can’t say I blame her for tricking me. I
was right; she did have rebellion in her blood.

I still can’t help but be angry at the
other Turia, at my world, at this damn place, and especially Dr.
Malcolm. What I hate more is knowing that when I die, I won’t be
Turia Shepherd Nation. Instead, I will be known as patient #006. To
make things worse, Dr. Malcolm’s words continue to burn in my
memory.

“
I am happy to report both
that you and the other Turia are doing well. Her vitals are stable
and you are transitioning well into this world. This gives our
people so much hope for crossing over.” Dr. Malcolm has taken to
sitting on my bed when she visits. I have to fight the urge to kick
her.

“
Oh, you mean, when you
will violently take over my world?” I didn’t have to play up the
angry teenager stereotype. My angst and sarcasm poured out of me
naturally.

Dr. Malcolm tells me, “Turia, you need
to think big picture. This research will be able to save thousands,
if not millions, of lives. We are doing what is best for the
greater good. We are blessed that our technology enables us to
research and explore all possible options for a better
existence.”

I am never convinced by Dr. Malcolm’s
statistics, research or opinions. I can see from their news and
media that the people of this world have turned on each other and
the planet. To put it in the other Turia’s words, “let’s just say
it gets ugly.” They need a way out and they want to trade places
with my home, my family and my world. Some days, I can see the
parallels between our worlds; and it makes me miss my parents and
brother. Damn, sometimes I even miss Randolph School and its brick
path.

It is just too ironic. I traded one
Test Year for another. I didn’t think I would make it through mine
successfully; and, now, it looks like I won’t get out of here
alive. But, I can’t help hearing my mother’s voice, “We Nations do
have rebellion in our blood.” History does have a way of repeating
itself.

Proclaim the New
Name

Duane L.
Herrmann

The new hats for 1909 featured wide
brims holding up piles of ribbons and possibly a feather for
excitement. Dresses were floor length, with long, slim lines. A
three room house in Topeka rented for $6.00 a month, a five room
for $13.00. A two story, six room house, just two years old, with a
bathroom and good barn, was for sale on Clay street for $2,550. The
Hilty family lived at 829 Monroe.

They had been living in Topeka for
three years, having moved from Enterprise, KS, so their daughter,
Lovelia, could attend Topeka High School. She had earlier attended
Kansas School for the Blind, so far away no one felt she should
travel back and forth on the train alone. And, she didn’t like it
there.

The move had meant leaving
baby Iona alone in her grave, but Lovelia’s needs were greater. She
is twenty-one now and has to be able to support herself; we
certainly can’t.
Felicia
reflected
. But, now that Leonard has the
Apex Café, we have more steady income.

Louella has been married
for six years now. We no longer needed to worry about her. Being
blind, Lovelia is another matter.

These were her thoughts
that evening of May 18, 1909, as she cleaned up after supper.
Leonard was reading the evening paper, the
Topeka State Journal.

“
Look at this,” Leonard
said to her as he pointed to a headline. “It says the Bahá’ís are
going to build a temple. This wasn’t mentioned in the class we
attended in my mother’s home.” Together they had attended this
class in 1897, in Enterprise. The teacher had given the name of the
religion only to those who, at the end of the class, had stated
that they had agreed with the teachings. Leonard had said it didn’t
make any difference to him. To Felicia, it had.

The teachings were not
difficult: there is one God, the Creator, who has a personal
relationship with humanity and periodically sends special
Messengers to guide humanity, including Moses, Jesus and now
Bahá’u’lláh, each the fulfillment of the one before, the “return”
so to speak. Now, here was news of it in the
Journal
.

Mother Ehrsam and Mrs.
Frey, who had also attended, are so far away
, Felicity regretted. She recited the First Commune. She knew
prayer was important and she tried to live in a manner that was
worthy; but with no other believers around, it was difficult. She
wished there was a book she could read, but she didn’t know of
any.

The dateline of the article was
Chicago. Ten years earlier Felicity had planned a trip there to
learn more, but the need for surgery had prevented it. She had
recovered fine, but the urgency for the trip had diminished and
later there was no time or money. Financial difficulties seemed
never to end.

Once Leonard had to declare bankruptcy
and twice his paying with bad checks made things worse. She had
wanted to learn more about her religion, but there was no
opportunity.

Abilene had seemed like a big town,
but not nearly as large and confusing as Topeka. Still, they had
settled in and learned their way around the Capital
City.

She finished reading the news article:
“The temple to be called ‘Mashrak-El-Azcar,’ will be a mixture of
modern and Oriental architecture. It will be modeled after a
similar temple in Eshkabad, Russia, the plans for which were drawn
by Baha-Ullah, father of the Abdul-Baha of Galilee, the present
prophet and leader…

Felicia tried to imagine
such a building, but she could not.  
How could a design combine contemporary and Eastern elements?
Would there be arches? A dome? Columns and pillars?