Henrys

“It’s like a chain of funhouse mirrors,” old Professor Henry said, observing Kate’s translucent doppelgangers arrange floating crystals as she did. “Infinite Kates.”

“And infinite Henrys,” Kate replied.

He looked to young, blond Henry. “Well, infinite versions.”

“Guys, I think it’s working,” young Henry said at the computer.

Then he vanished.

The Professor and Kate gasped, then saw him appear beside teenage Kate.

“You did it!” Old Henry exclaimed as the teens embraced. “We’re attuning back to our proper multiverses!”

Old Henry turned and hugged Kate. “Thank you! And now it’s goodbye.”

“I’m going to miss you,” she squeezed.

“But now you’ll have your Henry back!” he smiled.

The middle-aged woman kissed his bald head. “I never had one. Never wanted one.”

He vanished confused.

Dozens of Henrys wavered, resubstantiating beside her doppelgangers. Crying at the mass reunion, her eyes met the Professor’s next to his elderly Kate.

“Of all the Kates,” she said as they disappeared, “I must be the only one that’s alone… and isn’t straight.”

Head bowed, Kate sighed.

“Who are you?”

Startled, Kate turned and faced a woman who wasn’t there seconds ago.

“I got all the Kades home,” the mystery blonde said, “but where did you come from?”

Their eyes locked. “I’m, Kate.”

“I’m… Henrietta.”

They smiled.

 

Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.