Part 12: Oliver’s Reckoning

“Such a beautiful day out.”

“I’ll say.”

The birds sang in the trees, as a gentle wind rustled the foliage. It had been five long days since the fight. Since she called him a midget. This was the first time the two of them had gotten together since then. Both walked quietly, hand in hand, through Queen’s Park.

“The interview went well,” Oliver said. Iris looked over at him in confusion. “For the pizza place.”

“That’s great! Good on ya. You’ve got experience, you’re smart, charming… you’ve got this in the bag.” Iris smiled weakly.

“Thanks.” It was nice hearing her voice again- her actual voice, not her angry with him and shouting. Oliver cringed as he looked back in the moment.

“Hey, about the phone call-”

“It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Oliver paused. “I shouldn’t’ve said those things, I should’ve listened-”

“No it’s okay, you were right. About a lot of things.”

“So were you, I really didn’t mean to lash out at you like that.”

“I understand, you had a rough night. We both had a lot of things building up.” They stopped in the middle of the trail, surrounded by the rows of trees. “I stopped by yesterday, looking for you, and I talked to Marcus.”

“He’s healing up nice, all things considered.”

“You weren’t joking, that’s for sure. Guy looked like a prizefighter.” She chuckled, as the disappointment set in on her face. “You weren’t gonna tell me you were kidnapped? Or that you were caught up in a terrorist attack? Or that you fled with your lives from the police?” Her words hit Oliver like a ton of bricks.

“How was I supposed to tell you and just let you… worry?” He remembered how he felt the day he first found out his dad was sick. The question had constantly burned at the back of his mind for all of that time: how much longer did he have with him? He also knew that she’d asked herself a similar question back when her sister went off to fight in Afghanistan. There was no way he could put Iris through all of that, but he supposed it was too late for that now.

“Oliver… this is what I was talking about. Why didn’t you let me try to help you?” She cleared her throat, to keep her voice from breaking. “When I ask you about your day, I want to know, mate. I just want to be a part of your life. You’re my boyfriend for heaven’s sake!” She quickly composed herself, straightening her posture as she took a deep breath. The dirty-blonde roots of her hair poked through the deep red, as all the pins on her denim jacket rattled. The guilt ate away at Oliver as she spoke.

“I mean, with all the multiverse stuff, no offense, but I would tell you about Mobius and the finer things of my job, and you would zone out or chide me. You didn’t seem like you’d get it, and I… I didn’t want to make my problems your problems.”

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t get it. I’ve tried reading up on the nitty gritty of inter-dimensional whatever, and on Mobius, and it all makes my head hurt. But the thing is, you never even let me try.” Oliver looked at the dead patch of grass on the ground, playing with his hands.

“I… I deserved that.”

“It really hurts.”

“Sorry.” The gentle wind rustled their hair and clothes. “From now on, I’ll be straight with you. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. I want to be a part of your life too, and I love you more than anything, Iris.”

“Ollie,” Iris chuckled, smiling, fighting her emotions.

“I mean it babe, really.” Iris kicked the dirt, glancing at the ground, trying to figure out the right way to put it.

“When you said you were ‘sorry for having a life’, it got me thinking about… everything.” Oliver’s face dropped. Everything. That wasn’t a good word. “I’ve realized that we’ve been seeing each other less and less, and spending so much less time just talking to each other like we used to, because we’re living different lives.”

“Yeah, I kinda thought the same thing.” Oliver’s ears twitched. He looked Iris in the eye. “We can’t go back. To Mobius. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to anymore. I’m here now, with you.”

“Okay, but this has been a thing since long before you even left.” Oliver didn’t want to admit it, but looking back, it was true. “We’re not the same people we were back then. We have lives, we have ambitions. We have bills to pay. I’ve got my music, you’ve got your thing going here…”

“I really don’t anymore.”

“Look, what I’m trying to say is…” She hesitated, trying to find the words. “I think that the person I used to be is holding out for the person you used to be. And that’s not fair to either of us now.” Oliver sighed. He couldn’t deny what she was saying. She’d just put it into words better. “Like, if that weren’t true, we’d probably have gotten married or at least engaged by now. But neither of us is ever going to take the initiative, and I can see why. I mean, we’ve been at the decision-making stage for how long, now?”

“I always just thought of it as us kind of having our own thing going.”

“So have I, but really I think we’ve been using that an excuse.” Oliver swallowed, the pit in his stomach bottomless. What were they even doing?

“…So that’s it then?”

“…Yeah. Sorry.” The larger-than-life kangaroo he’d had the nerve to walk up to at that party years ago, the woman he loved, whose charisma filled any room she hopped into, stood there, deflated. He looked back at her, an equal emptiness filling him. They just stood there in silence for a solid minute, before Oliver opened his arms for a hug. Iris hesitated, before she picked him up and hugged him tight, exhaling into his tiny shoulder. It was a tender moment, one that was theirs and theirs alone. Oliver gripped onto her, knowing that the second he let go, it would all be over. Eventually, the two let go of each other and stood face to face, both barely keeping their tears from flowing to the forefront. Oliver looked out at the trees, not knowing what to say.

“…It’s a beautiful day out.” Iris smiled, her watery eyes glistening through her long, brown lashes.

“Yeah.” She sniffled, as the two enjoyed one last wonderful day in the park together.

Oliver walked in through the door, worn down from another shift at Vito’s Pizza. He’d only been there for a couple of weeks, but it was no Professor Pizza’s Pizzas by any means. Vito was a jerk who only cared about making money and cutting corners, many of his customers rarely tipped, and all of his coworkers were strangers who he’d had nothing in common with. He’d already been berated for not having a permanent ride, even though he was genuinely searching the used car market, and for taking too long to make a pizza by using the Professor’s metrics of quality.

Though it was ultimately just another minimum wage job, he at least had some money coming in to try and help rebuild his life. Additionally, it was an excuse to take his mind off of Iris. The breakup had taken a toll on him. He had a constant aching pit in his stomach that he carried around in him, and found himself lonelier than ever. He would curl up on the couch at night, alone, grazing on candied eucalyptus, not sleeping, wanting to go to sleep and take a break from everything that constantly reminded him of her, but finding himself unable to and laying there, existing. 

He walked past Marcus, who sat on his phone.

“Dude, check it out! Apparently someone anonymously leaked the whole thing Wing Guy was saying about destroying universes on the Mobian internet, and about the enforcers trying to silence us, and it’s gaining a lot of traction. Kinda surprised it’s not getting more buzz, but people are pissed.”

“That’s crazy,” Oliver responded, disengaged. Marcus looked over, mildly concerned.

“Uh oh. They make you stand outside with the pizza suit again?”

“No.”

“Oh. That’s good, at least.” Oliver’s phone buzzed. “I sent you a link, you’ve gotta check it out.”

“Thanks, I will.” Oliver walked over to his room and shut the door. Marcus had been more than supportive following the breakup, and had done numerous fun activities with Oliver to try to get his mind off of it. It would briefly work, until it, well, didn’t. Marcus would go on these tangents about whatever cool thing he’d been watching, or about some story from back home, and Oliver would barely be able to keep up. He was the sort of tired that a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.

He began tidying stacks of paper and various knick-knacks, and cleaning up his room, as he always did. It had never looked this messy and cramped, never this cluttered. No matter what he did, no matter how much he cleaned it, it was still a mess. As he dusted off the nightstand, which he’d dusted so many times that day, he felt something small and metal get knocked onto the ground. As he bent down to pick it up, the miniature, red and gold-colored object caught his eye. He held the small, dragon pin, which he got back in Singapore when he went with Iris, feeling the slight etching of each of the tiny, intricate scales on its winding, serpent-like body as he ran it between his fingers. It took him back to the small shop where he picked it up, to the life they once shared together. The various concerts she’d dragged him to, the inside jokes that they had, her high-pitched cackle which sounded like Hawkeye from M*A*S*H, the way she looked in the morning when he’d spend the night and wake up first, taking in her simple, natural beauty… even their last day in the park, as she looked at him with teary eyes. No matter where he went, there were so many reminders of how he’d let the love he’d shared with the perfect woman slowly crumble away.

Oliver’s breathing grew staggered and heavy, as an overwhelming mix of every emotion in the book erupted from deep inside of him all at once. He polished the pin off with his shirt, shakily holding it to his chest as he sobbed into his pillow. The tiny koala shook, as the wall he’d had up for the past two weeks, one he’d been building up for years now, came crumbling down. It was as though a piece of him had been ripped out the second he touched that stupid pin, the second he dared remember what had once been happy memories. How long was it before everything he ever cherished would turn into painful memories? She'd been his first. His only. He'd never meet another Iris. He didn't want to. He just wanted his Iris. 

Once he finally steadied his breathing, having let it all out of his system, he cleared his throat, thick with his silent sobs. His cracked phone sat on the nightstand. He knew he couldn’t go on there, and knew he couldn’t follow the urge to send her a text, or check her social media, or listen to the sound of her voice and her guitar, or look through all of his old photos of her, which he couldn’t bring himself to delete. The second he did any of that, it would break him again.

He laid there for several hours, in the aftermath of his mistakes. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to eat, not wanting to think, or to sleep, or to be awake, or to anything. His stomach grumbled, and his throat was dry, having not drank anything since getting out of work. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. He slunk out of his bed over the course of several minutes, wearily stretching, as he went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As Oliver quietly walked down the hall, Candace sat at the dining room table with Marcus.

“Your face looks much less swollen.”

“It only hurts in like a couple of little places now.” She went to feel a certain part of his injuries.

“Sorry. May I?”

“Yeah sure, it’s like right here.” He winced slightly as she gently ran her hand over the side of his head, checking the skin underneath for bruising.

“Sorry!” She sat back in her chair. “I’m a mum, after all,” She chuckled awkwardly, as he overdramatically keeled over in playful agony, putting professional footballers to shame.

"Y'know, speaking of which, your son's really saved my bacon. A few times now, actually." Candace leaned in, with a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, though this last time I saved his again so we're kinda even." He chucked, before noticing the concern on her face. "I mean, uh, we were totally fine, well besides the whole- nevermind..." The two had somehow failed to notice Oliver in the kitchen, who looked away with his red eyes, perking up a fluffy ear as he filled up his water. Candace let out a chuckle.

“God, he’s so much like his father.” She smiled. “Always working hard, always helping others.”

“Yeah, he’s a good dude.”

“I just worry about him sometimes. It drives him nuts, but I’m his mum, I can’t help it.” The water in Oliver’s glass rippled as Marcus scooted his chair on the hardwood, leaning forward. “I just see him come home sometimes and he looks worn out, more than someone his age should be. Whenever Jim would come home from a long day at the mines, he’d have that same look in his eye, that same stress. Not to sit here and catastrophize, but I’m just afraid that someday he’ll wind up like him.” Oliver’s stomach dropped, as his face scrunched up in pain. He felt like he just got punched.

“Sorry about that, by the way.”

“Oh thank you. It was ages ago.” She glanced over at the little wooden crucifix on the wall, the little, bearded koala watching down on them from the cross, before looking back at the panda and putting a gentle hand on his forearm. “I’m so glad you two became friends.”

"Thanks, heh, me too.” Marcus thought for a brief moment. “Y'know, that's kinda got me thinking... how do you do it?" Candace blinked.

"Do what?"

"Stay positive like that." Candace let out a high-pitched, surprised laugh.

"You're asking the wrong person, mate. Bloody hell, I should be asking you! You're the one always smiling and mucking around." Marcus looked down at the wall as she collected herself. "Sorry. What gave you that idea?"

"I don't know, you guys are just this- happy little family, you seem to have it all together. I don't know. It was a dumb question."

"I wish I had a better answer, sorry. Maybe Brett could tell you." Marcus chuckled. Perhaps the trick to finding happiness really was just being five years old again. A brief silence followed, as Candace looked for the right words.

"Something I've learned recently, that's helped me through a lot of things, is that... how do I put this... someone I know told me that 'happy' is a trap. And you know what, it really is." She adjusted her posture and sipped her glass of wine. "People spend their whole lives asking themselves, 'am I really happy'? And they get stuck in this self-fulfilling cycle of doubt, and it's just something you're constantly chasing after. The trick is rather to look for joy. All the little things which you enjoy, that make your day just a little bit brighter. Chase after that."

“Huh… never thought of it that way.”

Oliver walked away, so as to stop eavesdropping. His mum’s sage advice echoed in his pensive mind. It was hard, listening to the people closest to him dealing with the same feelings that he’d been. That it of course didn’t magically go away once you reached a certain point in life, or a certain age. Why would it?

He crept past Mabel’s room, whose door was slightly ajar. The monitor’s faint glow lit up the hallway, as her fingers quickly clicked on the mouse and typed at the keyboard, fully in her element. Her friends’ muffled voices could be heard over the Discord chat.

“Roll another d4… you’re thinking of 2014. They buffed all healing spells in the new one, remember? So now it’s 2d4 healing for a first level, plus your Wisdom modifier, plus an additional 3 healing from your domain’s abilities…”

From the guest bedroom on the other side of the hall, he heard rustling and chittering, as the wing guy and Brett played with Naruto in the other room. Traces of the beebo’s excited popcorn musk lingered in the hallway as he chewed on a feather toy.

“Back where I’m from, our boss was a giant, talking meatball,” the human said to the little quokka.

“…What’s a meatball?”

“It’s human food, like pizza. It’s a big, fried ball of meat.” Brett giggled.

“I don’t want to be a meatball.”

“You wouldn’t? Aw c’mon, why not?”

“Because I’d roll away.”

“Hey, don’t grab his tail. He doesn’t like that, he’ll bite.”

The wing guy’s tone was playful, yet warm and patient, without an ounce of snark. It was the first time since the dumpster that Oliver caught a glimpse behind the mask of teenage angst and trauma. His face had a warmth and tenderness reserved only for small creatures and young children. Marcus’ booming voice echoed across the house as he spoke with Candace. A sense of peace and content that Oliver had long forgotten washed over him as he took in his mother’s words, surrounded by the people who brought him joy.

To: Kristen D. VanLeeuwen, Ph.D.

Subject:

Hi Kris, hope you’re doing well. It’s been a while. I heard from Mum that you recently got back from Toronto. Hope your trip went well.

I wanted to say I’m really sorry for taking so bloody long to get back to you. I had a lot on my plate at the time, with everything that was going on with finals, and felt overwhelmed. I shouldn’t’ve left you out to dry. I skimmed through your most recent publication, it was very informative and thought provoking.

Anyways, just wanted to catch up and say hi. Again, sorry.

- Oliver Marshall Henry

He pored over the email, staring at it for several minutes, checking it over again and again, down to every last detail, as he sipped his glass of water. He wasn’t good at writing emails. He didn’t know what pushed him to finally go into his email and reply now of all times. Maybe it was his mother’s words. Maybe it was his struggle with losing Iris, or the desperate situation he was in after being forced to leave his new life in Mobius behind. More than likely, it was a mix of all three. After several long minutes, his thumb worked up the nerve to hit send. Welp, there was no going back now. His posture relaxed slightly, as a small weight lifted from his tiny shoulders.

From: Kristen D. VanLeeuwen, Ph.D.

Subject: Follow-up

Hello Oliver,

It’s so nice to hear from you! I hope that you’ve been doing well. First things first, no need to apologize! I completely understand. Life has a peculiar way of altering your course at the most unexpected times. 

Toronto was great, thank you for asking! Richard and I have been doing some legal work back and forth between here and Canada as of late. He’s been working on a significant case against a major company there. I've additionally been working on another series of publications under the university with a few different scholars in the Toronto area on the lingering effects of unrecovered landmines. One fellow's from Mozambique, the rest are Laotian/Cambodian.

Last I spoke with your mum, she told me that you've moved out and have been working out in Mobius. I'm not personally too familiar with all of the various hub worlds, though there's been a lot of quite interesting developments with interdimensional travel lately, the game has changed so much in the past year alone. How's the infinite city been treating you? I'm happy to hear that you've been working hard to set your own path forward and standing on your own two feet. It can be quite intimidating to take those first steps. I can tell you without a doubt that Jim would be so proud of you if he could see the koala you've become. I know you've been doing your own thing lately, but my offer still stands on the table.

Thank you for reaching out! It's wonderful to hear from you again. Tell the family I said hello and that I wish them well. Take care!

Best regards,

Kris VanLeeuwen

Oliver scrolled through the email on his phone, overjoyed. He was surprised at just how quickly she'd responded, considering Kris was an incredibly busy woman. He breathed for the first time in well over a year, getting choked up as she mentioned his late father. Maybe it was just the timing that got to him. Kris could, admittedly, be a bit intimidating at times. The fastidious wallaby always seemed to have everything perfectly together, and was all about formalities, plus she was always the smartest person in the room, both in terms of raw book smarts and emotional intelligence. Richard was very much the same way, except whenever you talked with him, you’d almost feel like you were being cross-examined. However, through his layers of guilt and anxiety, he'd almost forgotten the Kris he'd known as a small lad, the one who he'd reconnected with later in life who was the same old Kris, the very same Kris whose reply sat before the young koala.

He immediately hit reply and began to type a response. He didn't quite have the heart to tell her that the job didn't work out, and that he had to move back home, where he currently lived in his twenties. However, he did take the time to catch up with her about various recent events, such as his mum's new job, Mabel's university studies, and his and Iris' split. He was probably going to be late for work for the first time in a very long time, but he didn't care. Vito's could wait.

He ruminated over Kris' offer. If he wanted to get a job in his field someday, an internship helping Kris would be monumental for his career, plus he was in a desperate situation. He was tempted to accept, however, he realized that, during his time delivering pizzas for Professor Pizza's Pizzas and traveling the multiverse, even the numerous times he'd nearly died or had a mental breakdown, he couldn't deny that the sense of adventure filled him with a purpose that he'd never known before. He didn't know how, or even why, but he knew that delivering pizzas in Mobius was his destiny, as opposed to working in his field. He hesitated for a moment, before respectfully declining her offer and thanking her. He was going to go about this his own way.

After sending the email, he scrambled to get showered, brush his teeth, and get dressed. He sighed through his nose as he hastily put on the costume, which resembled a giant slice of pizza, and got on his bike to head to work. The morning sky was a beautiful pinkish-orange as he set off. It was supposed to be a hot one again today. The grass by the sidewalk was dry and patchy; he’d heard on the news that they were expecting a bit of a drought this summer.

The wedge-shaped costume was a pain to wear. Perhaps he should’ve waited until he got there to put it on in hindsight, especially considering he’d have to stand outside and wear it in the heat for several hours. He hated being the costume guy.

Eventually, he pulled up to the bike rack, which sat on a large patch of dead grass. He began to chain it to the rack, exactly two minutes late. He felt something strange as he fixed the chain, as he ran his hand over the metal. As he pulled back his hand and looked, he noticed a dark, sticky, jelly-like substance. Oliver stopped, staring at the substance. Surely this wasn’t what he thought it was. Surely JD had one of his daily lunchtime vegemite sandwiches out here. There was no way.

He hesitantly brought the mystery substance closer to him and gave it a sniff. He recognized the burning metal smell immediately. Dimensional rot.

The horror began to set in as he frantically looked around the small field of grass, and the lot next door. He found more and more of it the more he looked. His breathing grew shallow and frantic, as  his stomach turned. This could only mean one thing: his home was dying. 

Oliver retched and keeled over, but nothing came out. He felt like he wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t. He fumbled with his phone as panic set in. He had to do something, he had to warn people! He frantically dialed Iris’ number as the dial tone sounded for an eternity. They hadn’t spoken since she’d gotten her things, but this was more important.

“Hey.” Her voice spoke through the other line.

“Iris!!! Please, you’ve got to listen to me! I- I- there’s- we’ve-” The panic gripped him as he stumbled over himself, frantically trying to explain the situation.

“…Ollie?”

“Look, I- I know we h-” The koala tried to speak, but the words escaped him, as panic overtook him. He was racked with pain as the situation sunk in. He spoke, yet no sound came out.

“Oliver…” Iris’ voice was tired, and on the verge of breaking. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I- no!!! You’ve got it all wrong!!!” He looked at the phone screen. She’d already hung up on him. He growled with frustration as he dialed her back.

“We’re sorry, but the person you’re trying to reach-”

She blocked him!!! This could not be happening. Oliver kicked the bike rack as hard as he could, screaming in agony. He remembered the professor’s haunting words: “THERE IS NO MORE ‘THAT WORLD’.” This wasn’t happening on a cosmic scale over the course of hundreds of thousands of years; before he knew it, everything and everyone he knew and loved would be completely deatomized before his very eyes. If this was anything like back in 44M, they were being fed to Mobius in real time. He fumbled on his bike, before ripping off the bulky pizza costume. He got on his bike and peddled as fast as he could back home, as Vito hollered at him in the distance. Screw him.

He raced home as fast as his tiny legs and burning lungs could carry him, almost being hit by several cars. He limped back into the house as fast as he could, finding Marcus and the wing guy on the couch, watching anime.

“Turn off the telly!” The wing guy gave Oliver an irritated glare. Marcus, grasping the seriousness of the situation, turned off the TV mid episode.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I was going- I found it by the-”

“Woah man, calm down. You’re all over the place. Take a deep breath.” Oliver took a shaky breath as he tried to collect his words. Marcus’ voice and presence were a much-needed calming force. The wing guy looked around, scared and confused.

“Are they back? What’s going on?!”

“Enough.” He moved over, letting Oliver sit down next to him. Oliver didn’t take a seat, as he stood there, panicking and out of breath. “What’s going on man?” he asked in a soft voice.

“We’ve all got to get out of here. Everyone. Now. Dimensional rot.” Marcus’ face dropped.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I looked around, it’s everywhere.”

“Frick, man…” The room filled with a haunting silence, as if someone had just died.

“What’s that mean?” The wing guy locked his fingers together.

“It’s what happens when a universe like this is about to collapse in on itself.” Marcus rubbed his face. “Dammit, dude. There’s no way this is a coincidence!” The wing guy turned white as a sheet at this revelation.

“But, like, everyone’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Uh, no, of course not. That’s what ‘collapsing in on itself’ means.”

“I don’t know what to do! There’s so many people we’ve got to warn! We’ve gotta get everyone out, but we don’t have the money! We don’t have-”

“Easy dude-”

“Don’t tell me to take it easy!!! Everyone I-”

“Oliver. Listen to me.” Marcus sat down, looking at Oliver at eye level. He put a hand on the koala’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna figure this out, alright? One way or another, we’re gonna figure this out. The three of us. First things first, we gotta get to Mobius. If the High Council or the enforcers are behind this, that’s our best bet. If not, there’s people there who can help us. Okay?” Oliver nodded, his entire body tense. He knew it was a lie, he knew there was no hope. That before long they’d all be reduced to cosmic waste. This was far, far bigger than any of them. However, with Marcus by his side, he felt like he had a chance. Marcus gently ran his hand down the side of Oliver’s head in an affectionate, comforting manner. “We already lost our homes. You’re not losing yours.” Oliver’s panic gave way to fatigue and devastation. Marcus pulled him in for a bro hug.

“We can’t fix this, mate.”

“I know, but we’ve gotta do what we can.”

“…Sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, man. Wing Guy, you alright?” The wing guy said nothing as he stared out of the window, dissociating. Marcus glanced over at the human, before standing up and stretching.

“Now, how are we gonna get to Mobius?”