Page 31 of In What World

“As you so often are.”

“Yes, you two are very much the same,” this Dallas confirms, halting our bickering.

“I haven’t been back to Garden Meadows in a very long time, and I haven’t spoken to Marlowe in just as long,” Cilla tells him. “But you disappearing without a trace brought me back. Isn’t that nice of me?”

“I’m surprised to hear you two don’t talk at all,” he says, expertly skirting around every attempt Cilla is making at playing to his sympathies and getting more information. “Around here, Dr. Covington-French makes a big show of donating money to our department every year. She wants our theater to be named after her. Marlowe’s always sending her angry emails.”

“It should be named for Dallas!” I say, forgetting for a moment that thisisDallas. “You! It should be named for you!”

“That’s what you always say,” he tells me.

“And you always tell me that your legacy isn’t defined by a theater, but by the pieces of you that live inside all the actors you’ve taught,” I reply.

This makes the corners of his eyes crinkle up as he grins in pleasure. “Seems the other me taught you well.”

“Seems the other you abandoned me without a trace,” I say, immediately regretting it. This anger feels way too potent, and this Dallas is the wrong audience. “We need to get back to where we came from. Wherever this is, we can’t stay here. It’s probably breaking the universe.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Nothing can break the universe,” Other Dallas tells us. “Believe me, I’ve tried. And I’m sure your Dallas would tell you the same. We’re not as powerful as we think, but we also contain so much more than we could ever imagine.”

“Then how do we get back home?” Cilla asks.

“Honey, I have no idea,” Other Dallas says. “Like I told you, this hasn’t worked for you the way it’s intended to. You’re not supposed to behere. That’s the only thing I know for sure.”

“Well, then, allow us to be on our way.” I walk to the machine and stuff myself inside, feeling exactly like a child who’s gone to hide. For as long as I can remember, Dallas has been my outlet. He’s always respected my opinion and wanted to share his own thoughts with me. But now it’s clear even that hasn’t been totally true.

“This sure has been memorable!” Cilla tells Other Dallas, probably blowing him a kiss or giving him a big, showy hug he doesn’t deserve.

When she climbs into the machine beside me, Other Dallas reaches for the door’s handle before either of us can pull it shut.

“Don’t be afraid to make your greatness known,” he says.

It’s one of his signature phrases, and probably my favorite of the ones he’s kept in long-standing rotation. In my regular life, every time he’s ever said it to me, I’ve needed to hear it.

But I don’t need to hear it now. I need closure, not greatness. I need to know why my Dallas would do this.

Since he’s left me without a trace or a map, the best thing I can do is move forward. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at. Suffering an indignity and soldiering on, safe in the confines of Garden Meadows.

“Goodbye,” I say. “It’s time to get as far away from this place as possible.”

10

Priscilla

Pressing the buttonreactivates the red light and the Dallas countdown, followed by a blink-and-you-miss-it shake.

“I wish we knew how to keep going,” I say, wrapping my hand around Marlowe’s wrist.

If my regular life is all that waits for me on the other side of this door, I’m interested in extending the time I have before returning to it. My agent and manager want to know if I’ll ever accept another “real” audition instead of coasting on my recurring commercial work, and if not, then we need to have a “serious talk about the direction my career is going.” Erik is waiting to hear if I’m going to keep my hair this dark red, or if I’m ready to book a changeup with my hairstylist. My mom keeps asking how she can prove she’s not the woman she used to be.

“You’resick,” Marlowe replies.

She doesn’t want me to acknowledge the emotion thickening her voice, so I do her a favor and play along, replying with a “Perhaps I’m just full of wonder for the universe?”

“I hope you enjoy all the wondering you’ll get to do. Becauseas soon as youlet me go, I plan to get out of this machine and never again discuss what happened here.”

“Ah, yes. Repressed silence,” I say. “The healthiest coping mechanism. Very adultlike.”

Angry heat rolls off her in a strong enough wave that my cheeks flush. “I’m not repressing anything. I just have obligations I need to return to.”