Original Short Fiction: The Dimensional Rift in Metropolitan Police Precinct 32, Pt1
“The last time someone took Max, they ended up in a transdimensional time loop and missed the entire eighth grade.”
“Okay, Mrs. Fogarty, let’s go over this again.”
Daniel McCulloch had been in Luanne Fogarty’s brownstone for over an hour already, since she’d called in a theft report to the second precinct of the Metropolitan Police.
Although he’d seen nearly everything in his 25 years on the force, Luanne Fogarty always managed to make his day more interesting in ways that made for great stories afterward, but were mostly a big waste of time.
“Right, I got home about eleven from my hot yoga class, it’s called that because they heat up the room, you know and not because it’s sexy, because it’s really not, trust me, forty menopausal women, in a room, in workout gear, sweating! That’s when I noticed it was missing.”
Luanne Fogarty was a visual talker, she gestured, she nodded, she “emoted” with facial expressions that had to be seen to be believed and here she screwed her face into something that could only be described as unpleasant.
Patrick Flannel, McCulloch’s new trainee was doing his best to keep up, taking notes furiously. He said he wanted to be a writer, and McCulloch hoped he was paying attention, because you can’t write this stuff.
“Your cat, was missing?” McCulloch asked.
Mrs. Fogarty smiled, patiently, “No, well, yes, but not exactly. It’s shaped like a cat.”
“What is?” officer Flannel asked, pencil poised to record the answer.
“My house stop.” Mrs. Fogarty said, she offered both officers more tea, McCulloch refused, Flannel accepted. She dealt cookies like a blackjack dealer from across the room, landing them neatly on the real china plates that each officer held.
“Your door stop, you mean?” this from McCulloch. He knew that getting Mrs. Fogarty to clarify the details was where the story got interesting.
“No,” she smiled sweetly, as if at a small child who was missing the point, “My house stop. It stops the house.”
Flannel looked puzzled, McCulloch hid his grin with a sip of tea, “From what?”
Luanne Fogarty was the neighborhood eccentric. The department would have stopped responding to her calls in person long ago, if it weren’t for her generous support of the policeman’s auxiliary programs. She had once called in to report that aliens had been peeping in on her through her third floor windows.
While the official story was that the old lady must have seen a plastic sack blowing in the wind, where it had caught on a power line. There were reports of other odd things that night and McCulloch was inclined to think she had seen something more, but wasn’t able to explain it.
Luanne Fogarty sighed, she disliked having to get into the details, because it had ended with a 48 hour psych hold on two occasions, although the doctors she’d met on both occasions thought she just might be the most sane person they’d ever met.
“Well, that’s hard to say. Last time it drifted,” she said.
Now it was getting interesting. “Right, so, you want us to get your ‘house stop’ back to stop it drifting?” McCulloch said.
“No, not exactly, I more called because I’m concerned for the thieves,” Mrs. Fogarty took a bite from a cookie. “The last time someone took Max, that’s my house stop, they ended up in a transdimensional time loop and missed the entire eighth grade.”
Flannel glanced at his trainer, McCulloch, for his part, pasted a serious expression on his face and kept his eyes glued to Mrs. Fogarty. He could see Flannel coming unwound out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fogarty, did you just say transdimensional time loop?”
Flannel grinned, “you’re joking, right?”
Mrs. Fogarty’s brows lowered, “No, I’d never joke about time loops, I spent early 1981 and a good bit of 1980 caught in one, it’s very tiring. I know Bill Murray made it look like fun to relive the same day over and over, but let me tell you, it’s not.”
“Wait, are you talking about Groundhog Day, the movie?” Flannel asked.
He set his cup down and looked at his pencil. McCulloch could see the gears turning, “So, you think that movie was real?”
“No silly, it was obviously a work of fiction,” Mrs. Fogarty smiled.
“So you know Bill Murray didn’t actually experience the same day over and over because that would make you…” Patrick Flannel got a deer in then headlights look. “I mean..”
“Crazy? No dear, I assure you I’m not. It’s a scientifically proven fact. Of course Mr. Murray didn’t experience those events firsthand, it was based on someone else’s life.”
Flannel collapsed, “Okay, McCulloch, is this some kind of prank? I’ve heard what you’ve done to your other trainees. I’m a good sport, this is hilarious, but…”
McCulloch turned to officer Flannel and smiled, “It would be a great prank, I grant you, but no, it’s not. Please complete the interview.”
Patrick Flannel sighed again, “Okay,” he referenced his notes, “Could you please describe the ‘house stop’ for me?”
“Certainly, it’s a sort of ‘existential anchor’ if you will. It keeps my dwelling firmly planted in this dimensional reality. Otherwise, it has a tendency to wander,” she said, then wiped her mouth on a napkin.
“Existential…”
“Right, having to do with existence in the physical world, Patrick, ‘reality’ if you will,” Daniel McCulloch was thoroughly enjoying himself.
“I know what ‘existential’ means, I have a bachelor’s degree in literature. Pardon me for saying, I’ve never heard of an existential anchor. What I actually meant was, can you describe the object you believe was stolen, in physical terms?”
Patrick Flannel set his tea cup and cookie plate aside and set forward, pencil and pad in hand.
Luanne Fogarty smiled, she reached behind her and picked up a small picture frame, “Here is Max, in his current form. In this dimension, he typically takes on the form of a cement cat statue about twice the size of a housecat.”
“In this dimension?” officer Flannel said.
“Yes, before Max anchored this dwelling, he existed in many different forms,” Mrs. Fogarty said.
Officer Patrick Flannel closed his notebook, McCulloch put down his cup, he didn’t want to miss this, it looked like Flannel was ready to play along and he wanted to make sure he got every word correct when he told the story later.
“Mrs. Fogarty, we will keep a lookout for Max, but I’m afraid if he’s been taken out of this dimension that is out of our jurisdiction,” he smiled at Mrs. Fogarty and looked to his trainer for approval.
“Well, not so fast, officer Flannel, as it turns out, we do have jurisdiction,” McCulloch said, “Mrs. Fogarty, can you explain?”
“Certainly, it’s like this, you are currently existing in multiple dimensions in the exact same time and space. You can’t see these other dimensions, but as yours is a geographical jurisdiction, they are still within your purview,” she said, sipping her tea.
A phone rang from another room and Luanne Fogarty excused herself to answer it. Patrick watched her leave, then shifted to see when she came back.
“Sergeant, with all due respect, this is way outside my comfort zone here. I didn’t learn anything to prepare me for this in the academy,” officer Flannel said, turning to McCulloch. “In my opinion, Mrs. Fogarty should have a psych eval to make sure she’s not a danger to herself, or others.”
“It’s been done. Twice,” McCulloch said, “my experience with Mrs. Fogarty would suggest you keep an open mind. There may be more than one possible explanation here. Have you considered that she’s not crazy, that she is, in fact, telling the truth?”
Will officer Flannel find Thomas? Will the house drift? Find out in part two tomorrow!
Thanks for sharing awesome story @markrmorrisjr!
Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it. Part two coming out today.
Get episode 2 of my new Scifi story right here, right now! (upvote this one first,thanks!)