An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes by Randy Ribay Read Free Book Online

small group of children wearing identical bright yellow shirts squeezes past. Mari’s mom smiles after them.
    They proceed through the passageway and down into the next chamber. Mari stops, presses a finger against the side of the heart, and begins tracing the network of blue and red veins painted along the walls.
    A small black girl, not older than five or six, walks into the room, looking around in wonder. She grasps Mari’s free hand while still examining the heart’s shadowy interior.
    â€œI’m scared, Mommy,” she says. She pulls Mari toward the exit.
    Thump-THUMP . . . Thump-THUMP . . . Thump-THUMP . . .
    Mari looks down, amused that the girl has mistaken her for her mother. She then glances up at her own mom. A shadow seems to pass over her mom’s face.
    â€œI’m sorry, honey,” Mari says to the girl in a soft voice. “I’m not your mommy. But I’m sure she’s her somewhere around here.”
    The girl lets go of Mari’s hand when she realizes her mistake. A moment later, a woman appears through the main artery. The girl runs to her and they exit the left ventricle, hand-in-hand. Silence settles back into the chamber.
    Thump-THUMP . . . Thump-THUMP . . . Thump-THUMP . . .
    Mari is about to follow behind them when she notices that her mom has turned away. She is covering her face with her hands.
    â€œYou okay?” Mari says, coming up next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
    Her mom turns and wraps her arms around Mari. When she pulls away from the embrace, Mari sees that her eyes are brimmed with tears. This scares Mari more than the possibility of killing a giant.
    â€œWhat’s going on, Mom?” she asks.
    â€œNothing. I just . . . I need to step outside for a moment. Take as long as you want.”
    Her mom rushes out of the heart. Mari pauses to wonder what might be wrong and then follows after her.
    Emerging from the left ventricle, Mari scans the exhibit room. There’s a skeleton slowly riding an elliptical machine to her right, a spiraling display of various animal hearts to her left, but no sign of her mom.
    She walks back into the main atrium, past the gigantic, godlike statue of a seated Benjamin Franklin. The hall brightens and then dims as a cloud passes over the skylights.
    Mari steps out of the museum and onto the top of the marble stairs that lead down to the busy street. The sound of traffic is unusually loud. She squints at the brightness of the day, shields her eyes from the sun, and spots her mom to the left of the staircase. Her mom is sitting on a low wall in front of a sculpture of an early plane’s wire frame. Birds flit in and out of the iron skeleton.
    â€œHey.” Mari sits down next to her.
    â€œHi,” her mom says. She wipes her eyes with a crumpled tissue and then drops her hands to her lap.
    They sit and watch the traffic pass, the noises weaving together in the air.
    â€œWant to tell me what’s up?” Mari asks.
    â€œSorry,” her mom says, smiling through new tears. “I tried to not cry. But then I saw you with that little girl. And it made me think . . .” She trails off.
    â€œAbout what?”
    Her mom sighs. “How someday you’ll have kids.”
    â€œMaybe,” Mari says. “I haven’t decided yet. I might just be a crazy cat lady.”
    Her mom laughs.
    â€œBut why’d that make you cry?” Mari asks. “Is this about me not wanting to contact my biological mother?”
    Mari’s mom stands. “Let’s walk.” She tilts her head in the direction of a large fountain on the other side of a grassy area in front of the museum.
    Mari stands. Her mom loops her arm through Mari’s. They cross the street and then make their way along the sidewalk, stepping beneath the dappled shadows of trees whose leaves are just beginning to turn.
    They sit at one of the benches along the edge of the circular clearing and stare at the