A note from the author: This was originally written as a parallel fiction piece, to exist alongside Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, through a deal with Kindle Worlds where the copyright of his work had been changed to allow authors to write parallel fiction using his world and characters. I originally published it to Kindle Worlds, but since it shut down a few years back, I figured I would share it here. While this can be read without any knowledge of Slaughterhouse Five, I believe the reader will find a few extra details if they have read it. Please enjoy!
Trout was sixty-two back then. He was telling the kids to get off their dead butts and get their daily customers to subscribe to the fucking Sunday edition, too. He said that whoever sold the most Sunday subscriptions in the next two months would get a free trip for himself and his parents to Martha’s fucking Vineyard for a week, all expenses paid.
And so on.
One of the newspaper boys was actually a newspaper girl. She was electrified.
Trout’s paranoid face was terribly familiar to Billy, who had seen it on the jackets of so many books. But, coming on the face suddenly in a hometown alley, Billy could not guess why the face was so familiar. Billy thought maybe he had known this cracked messiah in Dresden somewhere. Trout certainly looked like a prisoner of war.
And then the newspaper girl held up her hand. “Mr. Trout—“ she said, “if I win, can I take my sister, too?”
“Hell no,” said Kilgore Trout. “You think money grows on trees?”
——————————————————————————————————————–
That electrified newspaper girl was Debbie Fisher. Debbie Fisher was pedaling home as hard as she could, her face a mixture of determination and excitement. She had already sold seven subscriptions to the Sunday edition today. Debbie was determined to win this competition for her sister and her mother. She would let the two of them go, while Debbie remained home. Her sister didn’t get to get out much, because of her illness, and her mom always looked so tired. She needed a vacation. Her mom was tired because she was working and taking care of Debbie and Laura all by herself, for the last year and a half now, ever since Laura was diagnosed. Their father had left them, then, after the diagnoses. He didn’t say a word when the doctor explained Laura’s condition to her parents, didn’t say a word to any of them the whole way home, and didn’t say a word to anyone when he left in the middle of the night.
And so on.
While pedaling along, Debbie remembered when her sister had been diagnosed. Laura had just turned six, and Debbie was eight going on nine. Debbie and Laura had gone outside to play. While they were playing, it had begun to drizzle, just enough they got a little wet, but not enough that either of them minded too much. They continued their game of tag, which Debbie typically won, being nearly two years older and stronger than Laura. They were running hard, but it was a cool day, and the light rain and wind kept them cool, even a little cold. Then their mother had called out to them from the house, in that tone that meant that they had better listen. “You girls get inside this instant!”
Bewildered at what they could have possibly done, the two girls ran to the porch, out of breath, their wet hair flopping with every step. When they got inside, their mother rushed over to Laura with a towel.
“What were you girls thinking? You should know better than to play in the rain, especially you, Debbie! You know how easily Laura catches a cold!” their mother exclaimed, a mix of anger and worry.
“Mom, we were just playing tag,” Laura said.
“In the rain. And now you’re soaking wet!” their mother replied.
“It’s barely even raining outside!” Debbie said. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”
“The fuss is,” their mother said, “that Laura just got over being sick less than a week ago. She’s been to the doctor sick six times in the last five months. The last thing we need is to take her to the doctor sick again!”
“Gee, sorry, Mom,” Debbie mumbled, staring at the floor. Both girls hung their heads in shame.
“Just try to think next time, ok? Now, let’s get you two girls warmed up and in some dry clothes.”
Debbie had thought her mother was just being a worrywart, but that night, Laura had indeed gotten sick again. Only this time it was different. It was worse. Laura got a really bad fever, and began having troubles breathing. She was shivering and sweating, her body burning up. She could hardly speak. Her parents rushed Laura to the hospital. Debbie had never been so scared in her life. On the way to the hospital, Laura’s breath became so shallow that Debbie was afraid that she wasn’t breathing at all.
When they got to the hospital, the doctors rushed Laura straight to the ER. There was fluid in her lungs, but the doctors were confident that with treatment, she would be just fine. That was when they began to talk about Laura’s medical history. Debbie sat quietly in the corner while the doctors asked her parents all sorts of questions. After listening to her parents explain that Laura was a girl who easily got sick, the doctors left to discuss something with each other. When they returned, the doctors told Debbie’s parents that after looking at Laura’s recent medical history, they believed that Laura had something called common variable immunodeficiency, but they couldn’t be sure without sending her to see a specialist. Debbie didn’t understand everything about the disease, and neither did the doctors, because, they said, this was a relatively new disease, but from what Debbie could gather, basically Laura’s ability to fight off infections was weak. Her immune system didn’t function the way that it should. That was why it was so easy for Laura to get sick. Laura would have to see a specialist to confirm the diagnosis.
Later, the specialist confirmed the diagnosis.
And so on.
The night that the specialist confirmed Laura’s diagnosis had been the last night that Debbie and Laura had seen their father. Debbie, Laura, and her mother had been devastated. Debbie couldn’t help but feel if she had taken better care of her sister, Laura would have been fine, and their dad never would have left.
But Debbie had to focus on the now. Debbie shook the memories from her head and raced on on her bicycle, pink streamers fluttering in the wind, and empty newspaper bag slung over her shoulder. Debbie had determined to protect her sister from that night on. Laura was the reason Debbie had even become a paper girl seven months ago. Debbie was saving up to get Laura the best doctor money could buy. She knew it would take a lot of saving, but Debbie was a big sister, and she couldn’t let Laura or her mother down again.
Debbie turned her thoughts back to the Sunday edition competition. She was already off to a great start. She had already convinced the Jackson’s, the Smith’s, and the Miller’s to buy, and she was certain she could convince the Davidsons next week. If Debbie could win the vacation for Laura and her mom, Laura could get to go somewhere fun away, from all the doctor visits and treatments and checkups for a while, and her mom could finally get the rest and relaxation she deserved. The idea sent sparks of excitement coursing through her body. Debbie pedaled even harder up the street before finally coming to her driveway, barely having the room to skid to a stop, and parking her bicycle in the garage before racing in the house to tell Laura and her mom.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Charles Fisher got up in the middle of the night. He hadn’t said a word to anyone all night, not his wife Caroline, not his daughters Debbie or Laura, not anyone. Indeed, Charles had not said a word since the man in the white coat had spat his venomous words at him. A specialist, he called himself. Charles didn’t believe him. What did these doctors and specialists know? My baby girl doesn’t have this immune disease they all seem so sure about. She couldn’t. She was his baby girl. He had to protect her.
He looked over at his book. It was another science fiction novel, this one by an obscure author, Killgore Trout. It was about aliens, and distant worlds, and time travel. Charles sighed. If only he could time travel. If only he could skip ahead, and see that everything was going to work out. That would soothe him.
He was tossing and turning for hours before he fell asleep. The thoughts whirling in his head had made his sleep restless, fitful. It was no surprise that he had woken up, then, to a slight buzzing. Curious, he got out of bed. The sound sounded like it was coming from outside. He walked to the window.
He didn’t see anything at first. Everything outside was as it should be. Then, just before he’d given up, he saw it. It was faint at first, so he rubbed his eyes, squinting to see in the dark night. It was a green star, floating there, in the night sky. It grew closer and brighter. As it got bigger, Charles realized that it could not be a star. But what could it be? Charles looked up and down the street, to see if there was anyone outside seeing what he was seeing, but it was late, and there was no one out and about at this hour. The green light started to move away, heading east in the night sky. This threw Charles into a panic. What could it be? He thought again. He couldn’t just let it fly away without discovering what it was.
As quietly as he could, Charles got dressed. He grabbed his wallet, with what little money it had in it, and his keys, and tiptoed his way out of the room. He was careful shutting the door gently behind him, so as not to disturb his wife, Caroline. He quietly walked through the hallway, past his daughters’ rooms, careful not to wake them. Then Charles went down the stairs, one by one, taking his time in the dark. One of the floorboards let out what seemed like a deafening moan. He froze, listening for any sign that his family was stirring, sure they must have heard it, it had been so loud. But no one stirred. He made his way down the rest of the stairs without incident. Then he hurried to the front door, put on his shoes and coat, and walked out the door, closing it gently behind him, to his car. Starting it, he headed east, towards the green light.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Debbie asked Laura what she would do, if she could do anything. “I’d see the world,” came Laura’s answer. “I’d go to every country there is! England, France, Egypt, China! I’d meet all sorts of different people, eat all kinds of foods, and go on all sorts of adventures!” Laura, whose mother often kept her home for fear of her getting sick, often dreamed about going places. She’d read many books and magazines about exotic countries, with people and customs so foreign to her own. Often, Debbie would catch her playing make believe. Once, she was a noble woman from a past England. Other times, a brave warrior princess from the tribes of Central America, or even just a common rice farmer tending to her rice paddies in Japan. Laura had quite the imagination. She didn’t care what part she played, as long as it was new and exciting, and outside the house she was often confined to.
“Where would be the place you’d most like to visit, Laura?”
Debbie sat as Laura thought long and hard about the question, carefully picking what her answer would be.
“Well,” she began, “if I had to choose just one place, I think I’d want to see the rainforests in Brazil!” she said excitedly, her speech picking up speed as she went. “Did you know, there are plants and animals we haven’t even discovered there? Scientists are finding new species every day! Look at these purple and white ones they just discovered! They’re so pretty!” She quickly opened one of her magazines to a page she’d dog-eared. “They’re called the walking iris. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Debbie looked down at the page to where Laura’s finger pointed to a beautiful picture of a flower. From the golden center of the flower came three big, white petals, one going straight up, and the other two coming out triangularly. Then, between each white petal, was a purple one, smaller than the white petals. The contrast between the petals was gorgeous.
“They’re so pretty!” Debbie breathed.
Debbie could see why Laura was so excited about Brazil. It sounded like a fun place to travel, to see all the exotic flowers and animals, maybe even ones they had never even seen pictures of before. Laura interrupted her thoughts.
“What about you, Debbie?” Laura asked.
“I’m not sure,” came her slow reply. “Travelling sounds nice. It would be fun if we could travel together. But most of all, I want to help people. There are plenty of people who need helping. I’m just not sure how yet.”
“That’s great, Debbie! It sounds just like you. I mean, you’re always looking to help me and Mom. You could be a nurse, or a police officer, or a teacher! You could travel around the world with me, teaching people who didn’t have as good of a schooling system as we do in the United States!”
“I don’t know. That sounds good, but how could I ever do that? I’m not going to commit to anything. I still have plenty of time before I grow up, after all.”
“Well, I bet whatever you decide to do, you’ll be real good at it.”
“Thanks, Laura, I bet you’ll have loads of fun travelling, too.”
Laura nodded her agreement.
“By the way, did you ever find out if you won that trip from Mr. Trout?” she asked.
Debbie looked up at the clock. “Good golly, Miss Molly, I almost forgot! I’m supposed to be meeting with him and all the newspaper boys soon! I better get going!” Debbie rushed out of the room, hurrying to the garage to get her bicycle. She pedaled harder than she had ever pedaled before, excitement and nervousness fueling her legs, pushing her onward.
Huffing and puffing, hair strewn wildly about her red face, Debbie was the last one to make it to the meeting, which was just about to start.
Mr. Trout stood in the center of all the children, loving being the center of attention. His hair disheveled, face unshaven, and clothes unwashed, he began to speak.
“Well,” Mr. Trout said, “it looks like we can finally begin. Without any further ado, I will now read the top three newspaper sellers. In third place, we have Harry Bachman, who sold 16 subscriptions.” Mr. Trout paused for effect, or maybe for a reaction, of which there was little, besides a disappointed sigh from Harry. After a couple more moments, Trout cleared his throat. “In second place, we have Dean Lawrence, who sold 20 subscriptions.”
“Aw man…” Dean said.
This was it. Debbie was going to get it. She had sold 38 subscriptions, more than the other two combined. She couldn’t believe it. She’d done it. She’d won a trip for her sister and mother. They were going to be so thrilled. Debbie couldn’t wait to see the look on Laura’s face!
“And in first place, is Debbie Fisher, who sold a whopping 38 subscriptions!” Debbie jumped up and down with excitement. All the boys around her applauded politely for a few seconds, a few of them stopping to begrudgingly congratulate her before the crowd of them dispersed to go home, mumbling to themselves. Debbie rushed over to Mr. Trout.
“Oh Mr. Trout, Mr. Trout! When will the trip be, so my mother can get time off work?” she asked.
“Eh? Trip?” Mr. Trout said. “Oh dear girl, didn’t I tell you all? The company said I couldn’t give you a trip. Said it was against the rules.”
Debbie couldn’t breathe. Tears began welling up in her eyes.
“But you said-“
“I’m sorry, girl, but there’s nothing I can do. My hands are tied.”
“But I worked so hard! I did everything you said-“
“Rules are rules. So it goes, I’m afraid.”
Tears were freely streaming down Debbie’s cheeks now.
“You, you liar!” she screeched. “You’re nothing but a liar! A no good cheat! A thief!”
“Now, now, there’s no need to be-“
“No!” Debbie screamed. “You stop lying! I don’t want to hear it. I don’t ever want to see you again you liar! I quit!”
Debbie threw down her newspaper bag and raced to her bicycle and took off before Mr. Trout could get in another word.
“Fuck,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to deliver her route now, too.”
——————————————————————————————————————–
Charles was far outside the city. He’d followed the green light east this far, but he’d just lost sight of it. He’d been getting really close, and then, it just disappeared. He didn’t understand. He was in the middle of nowhere. He shut down his car, ready to give up. Charles was frustrated. He couldn’t think with all this buzzing. It was getting louder and louder. Then, Charles and his car became surrounded in green light. It was directly above him. A ship. Just like he’d seen in the movies.
And Charles and the car floated up, up, into the ship, the buzzing of the engines becoming a roar, until he was inside and the doors closed, and the roaring became a quiet hum. Charles looked all around his car. There were green aliens everywhere. Shaped like plungers, with a hand at the top and an eye inside the palm. Just like in his sci-fi books! They looked at him inside his car, as if they expected him to say something. So he did.
“Who are you?” he stammered, still inside his car.
“We are the Tralfmadorians,” came the collective response. Charles was confused to have heard their response. He could not see any mouths.
“How are you talking to me?” he asked.
“We are communicating to you telepathically. It is how we Tralfmadorians communicate.”
Charles swallowed. Could they read his thoughts? “What are you doing here?”
“We are here because we must be,” they said, simply.
“What do you mean, you must be?”
“We are here, because this moment dictates that we are here, just as you are here, because this moment dictates it.”
Charles licked his lips. “Who dictates it?” he asked. There was no response. After a few moments, he said, “I do not understand.”
“You are not meant to understand at this moment. Perhaps in another one, you will. For now, we are here to teach you, as we have, are, and will teach other earthlings, what it means to see in the fourth dimension. The most important thing we can teach you is this: Life is a collection of moments. You can visit any moment you like, if you put your mind to it. If you feel like having a sunny day, go visit one. If you’re feeling down, pick a happy day to travel to. If you’re missing a loved one, don’t. If someone dies, they’re just like that in that moment. But there are plenty of other moments you can have with them.”
When Charles heard this, he interpreted it as nobody died. His baby girl wouldn’t die. Charles got out of the car. He was eager to learn.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Debbie didn’t stop crying until after she had told Laura and their mother the whole story. Laura had taken the news pretty well, considering the trip was supposed to have been for her. “Aw, it’s ok, sis,” she said. “It isn’t your fault. That Mr. Trout is just a big old jerk-face!” Debbie sniffled, feeling a little better.
“But this trip was supposed to be a present for you and Mom,” Debbie said, struggling and failing to keep her voice level. She sniffled again. “I worked so hard for you both, and it was all for nothing!” The tears threatened to start flowing again. Debbie lowered her head, trying to hide her face in shame.
“It’s alright, dear,” her mother said, comforting her. “We both know how hard you worked to get us that trip. Just seeing how much you tried to do for the both of us is enough for me. I’m so proud of you, honey.”
“Me too! Besides,” Laura continued, “you wouldn’t have been able to go. It wouldn’t be much of a vacation without my big sister there to spend it with me!” With that, Laura hugged Debbie, and she felt much better. She thought to herself, how lucky she was to have a little sister and an understanding mother there for her.
And so on.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Laura’s death staggered Debbie and her mother, just over three years later. She would have been eleven soon. The doctors had done everything they could. They tried therapies, medicines, and hospital care. And so on. Laura had had the best doctors in the area, more than the family could afford. But it didn’t matter. Laura got sick. She didn’t get better. Standing there, at the funeral, Debbie didn’t know how to react. She was devastated. She wanted to cry, but she had cried all her tears out in the days before. Her mother still had tears. She cried, sobbing at the untimely loss of her child. Many friends and neighbors offered their condolences, but those were of no use to a mother who had lost a child, a daughter who had lost a sister.
So it goes.
It was a terrible day for a funeral. It was sunny, warm, and nice, without a cloud in the sky. A slight breeze blew through the trees, bringing with it the warm, damp smell of spring. But the day was darkened by all the black suits and black dresses. No amount of warm weather could counteract the cold, sinking feeling Debbie felt as the casket sank six feet into the ground. One by one, everyone left, until it was just Debbie and her mother standing alone at the grave. The breeze blew Debbie’s hair into her face as she somehow found more tears to shed. The birds in the trees chirped happily.
“Poo-tee-weet!”
——————————————————————————————————————–
Charles had done a lot of time travelling. He’d travel from year to year. Recently, he’d seen both Debbie and Laura graduate college. He’d attended Debbie’s wedding, just a few days ago, and watched his grandchild, Laura’s firstborn daughter, get brought into the world. Today, however, was one of his favorite days to travel to. It was a family dinner. Laura and Debbie had brought their kids over for a nice sit down meal with the family. It was 1990. They had come over in their flying cars that didn’t need gas, and Caroline had spent most of the day cooking foods the Tralfmadorians had introduced to Earth.
It was a fine spread she had made, with meats and vegetables they didn’t have on Earth, as well as a few things they didn’t even have names for on Earth, like yuwls and werqs. As Charles settled into his chair, surrounded by his wife, children, and grandchildren, a feast laid out before them, Charles couldn’t imagine what his life would have been like had he not learned to time travel.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Debbie’s mother died five years later, when Debbie was eighteen. Debbie had been preparing for her first semester of college when she got the news. She wasn’t really surprised. Debbie’s mother had had her third heart attack a little over a month before, but the news still shook Debbie. The doctors told Debbie her mother had had too much stress, and had overworked her body for too long. Debbie buried her mother three weeks before starting her fall semester. Debbie was going to be a teacher.
So it goes.
Debbie was able to keep the house. It was about a twenty minute bike ride from the college, but she didn’t mind so much. She went to school every Monday through Friday, went to work at the diner every Wednesday through Saturday. Debbie worked hard. She wanted to make her mother proud, and she wanted to fulfill her sister’s dreams of travelling the world. She was still trying to piece together the how.
——————————————————————————————————————–
It was a Sunday. One of the rare Sundays where Debbie didn’t necessarily have to do anything. Debbie was sitting on the couch, reading one of her textbooks, preparing for a test she had later that week, when there was a knock at the door. Debbie wasn’t expecting any visitors, but she got up and went to the door anyways. She opened it, asking, “Hello?”
A man who looked to be about forty was standing there, a big smile on his face.
“I’m home,” he said.
Debbie couldn’t believe it. “Dad?”
“Hey sweetie! My, you’ve gotten big on me!”
Debbie was in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean, what I am doing here?” He brushed past her into the entry way. “I live here!”
“Not for ten years, you haven’t.” The shock was beginning to wear off.
“Is your mother home?”
Debbie’s expression grew cold. “No,” she said flatly, “she’s dead. But you’d know that, if you’d been here.”
“Oh, ha ha, always the jokes with you. What about your sister? Is she here?”
Debbie’s expression darkened. “No,” she said coldly, “she died too. About five years ago. You want to tell me what the fuck you are doing here?”
Debbie could feel rage boiling inside her. Her father opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Debbie slapped him. Hard. “How could you?” she screamed. “How could you leave us like that? And then just show up, after ten years, like nothing happened? How could you do that?”
Her father looked truly shocked. “I didn’t leave you, honey. I’ve been time travelling.” He looked as if he felt that was all the explanation he needed to give.
“You what?”
“I became unstuck in time, just like that man on the radio, and I’ve been travelling through time. But now I’m home.” Debbie looked at him like he was delusional, which she thought he was. “Now, where are your mother and sister?”
“I told you,” she said, hot flames dying into coals. “They’re dead. They’ve been dead.” She felt the coals flare up again. “Maybe they wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t left us!” She was yelling again, and looked as if she were about to hit him again. He flinched. “Maybe then we could have afforded better doctors. Maybe then, mother wouldn’t have had to work herself to death!” She stood there, seething rage, waiting for some explanation.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. I’ve been to the future, I saw all of you. I was time traveling-“
“There is no such thing as time traveling!” Debbie screamed. “If you believe in time traveling, you’re absolutely crazy!”
“But I did time travel!”
“I’ll tell you what I did, Dad. I buried my little sister. I buried my mother. And I did all of it without you. Because you abandoned us. Maybe it was too hard for you, maybe you snapped, maybe you’ve always been crazy. But you were gone, and I’ve been alone!”
A moment of lucidity seemed to flash in her father’s eyes, and she thought she saw pain and sadness there. But then his eyes went cloudy again.
“But I did time travel! I saw my grandchildren. I grew old with your mother! None of us die! The Tralfmadorians told me so! They said that nobody really died, that they were fine, it was just a moment in amber, like a bug, stuck inside…” Debbie stopped listening. She hurried over to the phone and called the police. Her father tried to explain up until the point they got there. Turns out, her father was crazy. He was committed that night.
And so on.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Debbie woke up, sun already shining through her bedroom window. She had a new job teaching in Brazil. She had joined the Peace Corp, in order to help people, just like she’d told her sister Laura she’d wanted to do, all those years ago. The best part, though, was the travel. She got to go to many different countries to help those in need. She’d already been to Mexico, China, India, Peru, and Egypt. She wanted to go to as many places as she could. She did this for Laura.
She ate her breakfast, and finished a post card to her dad, about where she was and how she’d been. It was hard not to blame him for their deaths, and she often had to remind herself that he’d been sick. The doctors believe that he’d snapped when he’d heard Laura’s diagnosis, because he couldn’t handle the notion. Once in a while, he would send letters back. Mostly, they were gibberish and incoherent nonsense, the teachings of the Tralfmadorians, she imagined. Other times, they were stories he believed he’d experienced, about aliens, and a man named Billy Pilgrim who claimed to be able to time travel, and how he thought he’d learned to do it too. The doctors said he’d become attached to this idea after he’d heard Billy Pilgrim on the radio. They told her that that was where he had learned about the aliens and the time travelling, and that he’d invented this whole world for himself where he’d been abducted by them the night he left and time travelled into future fantasies. He’d dreamed up a whole life for himself and his family in the future. He’d ask after Laura, or her mother, or his imaginary grandchildren. It was always hard for Debbie to read.
She had no such letter today. Debbie was in a good mood. The sun was shining, and her spirits were high. Debbie often wondered if her sister would be proud of the work she was doing, or be happy that she was visiting all these places in honor of her dreams, the ones they’d talked about when they were young. She liked to think her sister would be happy. When she walked outside on her way to work, and stopped by her flower garden. She had all sorts of colorful flowers there, some red, some blue, some a vivid orange and black. Her prized flowers, though, her favorite flowers of the garden, were the walking irises, with their three big white petals, and their three small purple ones. The same flower that her sister had shown her in the magazine when they were kids. They reminded Debbie of sitting in her room with her sister, looking at all the magazines Laura had been so fond of.
Debbie looked up into the trees, the sun shining brightly through the branches. There were birds chirping, just as they had on the day of Laura’s funeral. Debbie smiled, knowing that her little sister was watching out for her. One of them asked her,
“Poo-tee-weet?”
Pretty dang good…for a milk drinker 😉