Read Chapter 1 here
Read Chapter 2 here
Read Chapter 3 here
Noble Redavich scurried down the narrow stairs and pushed open the heavy inner door to the vestibule. He hurried past the row of mailboxes, opened the outer door and emerged onto the concrete front steps, bathed in the flat light of an overcast day in his quiet Boston neighborhood.
If he’d gotten up with his original alarm, he’d be at the nearby bus stop already, with enough time to grab coffee before arriving at work. As it was, he’d have to hurry just to catch the later bus, which would make him dangerously late.
Roger strongly disliked the fact that Noble was almost never on time, and the reasons why Noble continued to get away with it were unclear. They had an unspoken agreement that he would make an effort to look like he was trying not to be late, and that seemed to keep things from going further than eye-rolling and the occasional sarcastic remark. This morning was definitely going to be a problem, however, because he could already see the bus pulling up to the stop from one-and-a-half irregular Boston city blocks away. He started to run, bag swinging, the thin soles of his ankle boots slapping the concrete sidewalk with a clip-clop sound, breathing and heartbeat accelerating along with his pace.
His heart pounded and he tasted lactic acid on his tongue. There was no way he was making it. The bus began to pull away, and his heart sank.
But then, the public transit gods smiled on him, and the bus suddenly jolted to a stop with a hiss and a blast from its horn. He couldn’t tell why, but he didn’t care: he sprinted. His field of vision narrowed, focusing on the blur of uneven pavement in front of him. He glanced up to make sure the bus hadn’t left, and he saw the thing that had interrupted its departure.
It was a tree. A small, yellow-leafed tree, with a tiny black-and-white cat clinging to a thin branch. It appeared to be sprouting from the middle of the bus lane, right up through the asphalt, as if a lazy contractor had built the road around it.
He tripped, and for a moment, he windmilled wildly down the sidewalk, arms flailing, legs trying to part ways with his torso. He looked away, struggled with some success to find his balance again, and slowed to a jog. He looked back up. The bus was still there, but the tree and the cat had vanished.
His ragged breath caught in his throat. Arbor Day, he thought. I saw what I saw. I know I did.
He reached the bus and pounded on the door, trying to make eye contact with the driver. The driver looked at his side mirror, at first refusing to acknowledge his potential passenger, but he opened the door at last. Noble leaped up the stairs, tapping his fare card. “Did you see that?” he said to the driver between gasping breaths.
The bus driver looked straight ahead. “I sawr nothin’,” he said in an impressive Boston accent.
Noble felt conflicted. He was on his way at last, and he’d only be somewhat late. Normally, he’d be thrilled, but the issue of timeliness now seemed positively quaint. His real worry had four paws, a tail, and a serious problem with quantum entanglement.
The door closed, and the bus began to move.
