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Ebenezer had been told his realm could change over time. He didn’t particularly want it to, didn’t see much need for it. As far as he was concerned, everything within was exactly as it ought to have been. The proximity to nature, of which he’d had precious little in life; the wooden furnishings, rough-hewn but comfortable all the same; even his bed, which he’d thought he would have no use for in the afterlife. Everything about it was home.
The piano was no exception.
It was a recent addition, compared to everything else. Outside of managing the team’s finances— he loved them dearly, but there was no one he trusted with money more than himself. Even Jacob was too ostentatious for his liking— Ebenezer found himself with a startling amount of free time. He hadn’t known what to do with it at first. He’d spent much of his life trying to run from his thoughts. Being alone with them, for a while, was like sitting in a room with a particularly touchy stranger. He had to learn how to coexist with them. The piano helped with this a great deal. Before it, he had only known two options: escape for as long as he could, or think all of it at once. There was no channeling; no reconstruction; no taking that mass of thoughts, holding its misshapen hand, telling it, I hear you. I believe you. Why don’t we make this into something better?
But music changed all of that. It gave his mind someplace safe to rest. It was a home where, like a fox in a burrow, he could curl up and find solace in the darkness. He knew this even now, as he played a delicate waltz. With each note, the tightly-wound threads in his head unraveled until he was completely in his element. He had just reached a bridge. As if corresponding with the song’s tone, a beam of sunlight cast itself across the keys. Shimmering particles, like tiny fireflies, drifted in the air.
Ebenezer smiled to himself. This was all his doing. So he could create beautiful things after a—
“You would not believe the day I just had!”
Past flung the door open and barged in. Startled, Ebenezer’s hands slipped; the joyful melody finished with a terrible, discordant noise. He snarled under his breath. He was just getting to the good part. How had they gotten in here? This was his realm, under his control, and no one came in or out unless he—
He didn’t have time to scold Past before they launched into a furious rant.
“This scoundrel, this blackguard I was assigned to,” they began. “This worthless cur, this waste of space, this— this— this bloody mongrel, he’s lucky he’s rid of me and doubly so that I can’t harm him while he’s under my watch, otherwise I would have sent him straight here and dealt with him my way, over and over and over again! He should be grateful that Present doesn’t fight, either! I hope Future shows him what’ll become of him! I hope it all comes to fruition! He doesn’t deserve second chances! He won’t change! I don’t know why anyone thought he was worth saving! I hope it’s painful! He disrespects his wife, he disrespects his children, he disrespected me, he poisons everything he touches! It’s people like him that make the world what it is! Oh, that wretched, wretched man! I’ll be waiting for him when he gets here, and I’ll have a delightful little surprise with his name on it!”
When Ebenezer turned around, Past had dissolved into a featureless puddle of wax on the floor. They sizzled and bubbled with rage. Unsure of what to do, thoroughly unnerved by the sight of his friend so upset, he crouched beside them.
“Past,” he began, as gently as he could manage, “of course he can be changed. If there was hope for me, there’s hope for everyo—“
“There are worse people than you, Ebenezer. You’ve got to stop thinking of yourself as the pinnacle of evil. It doesn’t do any favors for anyone! How could you possibly be worse than a man who routinely abandons his family, who plans to subject his children to his wicked mistress, so he can mold them and shape them into his little marionettes? How could you be worse than a man who has no compassion toward anyone he’s ever known? At least you repressed your ability to value others! He’s thrown it away entirely! Stop acting like you’re the worst person I’ve ever worked with, because you’re not!”
“Oh.” He blinked, stunned. Hesitantly, recognizing the value in Past’s words underneath all their viciousness, he said, “Thank you.”
They sizzled again, like cooking oil, splattering droplets of hot wax across the floor. Ebenezer shielded his face with his arm and watched them from behind it, wondering fearfully if they would burst into flames.
“I— I think— I think you should relax. I’ve never seen you quite so angry before,” he said, aware only at the last second of how unhelpful he was being.
The splattering intensified. “Oh, yes, relax! Why didn’t I think of that before? If only I’d had your invaluable insight with me then, Ebenezer, then none of this would be an issue! Why should betrayal and cruelty bother me? I only need to relax! You’re a genius! A genius, I say!”
“Don’t get snippy with me,” Ebenezer said firmly.
An arm emerged from the puddle of wax. In a fit of temper, fingers poised like claws, Past swiped at him. “Then don’t you — don’t you— you— ugh! ”
They continued growling and cursing to themself, writhing into vaguely humanoid shapes. Ebenezer sat next to them and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could help.”
“Can you kill him for me?” they asked dryly.
He was so taken aback, he laughed aloud. “No. No, I’m afraid not. I don’t have the stomach for it, and it would raise too many questions.”
“It’s not as if anyone would miss him.”
“I’ve never heard you say something so callous. Wouldn’t he be one more problem for us to deal with, regardless?”
They hissed.
Ebenezer fell silent again.
Actually, he thought, allowing them to hear it, do you remember what you did for me when I was overwhelmed?
As if I could ever forget.
He smiled. Why don’t we do the same thing? I can create the image this time. Perhaps it might be something different. Unfortunately, I’m not quite as good at organizing things as you are. If that’s what you prefer, however, I can do my bes—
No, Past thought viciously. Just sit with me. I can manage my own emotions, thank you.
That’s fine. I only thought I’d ask.
When the silence had fallen over them again and lingered for a while, Ebenezer returned to the piano and resumed his waltz.
“Stop that,” said Past.
A pang of guilt struck him. “Sorry.”
“Do you know what?” Wax shifted and bubbled behind him. Ebenezer turned to see Past resuming the form of a rather frazzled Lottie Milligan. “I need to go to my happy place and forget all of this.”
“Your realm?”
“No, not quite,” they said, giving him a tired smile— but a genuine one. “That’s only one of them. Let me put it this way.”
In an instant, the two of them stood before the dilapidated factory where Ebenezer worked as a boy.
He grimaced. “This is your happy place?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why—“
“Let me get to it,” Past snapped. They cleared their throat. “Sorry. Have you ever wondered what came before? What used to be here? You know, before… all of this?”
“Not particularly.”
“Really? You’ve never wanted to know what it was like when this was all trees? Not even once?”
“I’ve never known a place that’s ‘all trees,’” Ebenezer reminded them. “And I never liked being here. I never even liked thinking about it. Need I remind you that—“
“‘Blah, blah, I had it demolished ‘cause I was a big baby,’” they said mockingly, taking his form. He smiled at the return of the Past he knew. “Well, it’s not a problem in the slightest. Now that I’m not responsible for your reclamation any longer, I can take you anywhere I please. Come along, then!”
“Where are we—“
They returned to Milligan’s form, grabbed Ebenezer’s hand, and dragged him into a lively dance. He could only keep up for a few minutes. They were tireless, extravagant, every movement a celebration. Past whirled about until a ring of flames erupted around the two of them. Just as before, the ground dissolved into a long tunnel, cascading endlessly through time.
They took his hand again, and the pair descended.
This time, the journey was far more relaxed, no longer a wild tumble but an elegant freefall. Wind rose up to ruffle Ebenezer’s hair. Past’s hand remained in his. They floated horizontally downward, a little over a meter above him, before letting go and moving to drift by his side.
The two had been traveling for a few minutes when Ebenezer asked, “How far back are we going, exactly?”
“You’ll see!” Past grinned. “We’re almost there. You’re going to love it. You’re fond of animals, aren’t you?”
“What has that to do with anything?”
“Wait until we get there, hm?”
Playfully, Ebenezer rolled his eyes. “You and your… your… vagueness.”
They rose up to shove him. “Yes, yes, I’m charming, I know.”
The two emerged onto a flat rock in an enormous forest. Rows of palms sprawled ahead. Above them stood trees unlike anything Ebenezer had seen before, even in lithographs of distant tropical islands. They towered, straight as matchsticks, without needles to coat their lengths or branches to weave webs across the forest canopy— only clusters of pointed leaves at their very tips. Stagnant water soaked the earth beneath them, its volume fluctuating almost imperceptibly as the roots sucked it up. It captured the light filtering through the trees like stained glass, painting a picture of sunken leaves and darting fish. An animal cried gutturally in the distance.
A dragonfly the size of a dinner plate landed on a tree, its wings buzzing hideously, before rising again.
Ebenezer glanced from one tree to another, almost dizzy with wonder. “Whose past is this?”
“No one’s,” Past said, beaming. They threw themself down onto the edge of the rock and allowed their legs to dangle just above the water’s surface. “Or perhaps everyone’s. We’ve gone back so far, there are no humans to speak of. That’s why I love it here. It gives me a break.”
“I can imagine you need one.” Ebenezer cautiously joined them, taking note of the rock’s coolness underneath him.
“Don’t we all?”
He nodded. Another huge dragonfly sailed by. Ebenezer almost stood up, startled, before realizing it couldn’t touch him.
It didn’t even know he was there.
As he relaxed, his eyes followed its trajectory through the trees. It darted past a fanning shrub and hovered there, casting a shadow, a spot of light pouring through its diaphanous wings. In a split second, its front legs shot forward to seize something between the leaves. Ebenezer leaned forward to watch as the dragonfly’s mandibles crushed a massive beetle.
“Brutal, isn’t it?” Past smiled. Without waiting for a response, they wrapped an arm tightly around his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Do you see that?”
“What?”
“Look closely,” they said, pointing. “Under that dead tree over there.”
To the left, a massive tree lay half-toppled, suspended over the water by another arboreal cluster. There was just enough wiggle room beneath it that, had he wanted to, Ebenezer could have walked right through.
He didn’t quite feel like wading through an ankle-deep, insect-ridden marsh.
But something did.
“Look,” Past said again, their voice hushed as though something might hear them. From rustling palm leaves, a creature emerged, bit by bit. First a bulky snout, not unlike a large seal; then a rotund, soft body on four lizard-like legs. Bright red, spiny tips built up to a curious arching sail that emerged from its back. The sail alone was almost as tall as a fully-grown man. Sunlight pierced its orange length, illuminating the delicate veins that wove through it like tributaries. The animal’s nostrils flared. With beady, black eyes, it scanned the waters beneath it. Its snout dipped beneath the surface, closed around something, then hoisted up a small shark. In two triumphant, forceful bites, its prey was gone.
Ebenezer stared, fascinated. Past’s arm remained around his shoulder. The sight was unlike even his wildest imaginings. The closest thing he had ever seen to it was a dragon, fire-breathing, wings spread, in a childhood storybook.
Then he laughed.
Past looked up at him, entertained but confused. “What?”
“It reminds me of Prudence,” he said, before promptly descending into hysterics. “The same dopey face! The same jowls! One time, I—“ he paused to catch his breath “—I tossed a strip of steak to her, just as a little treat, and she snapped it up that very same way!”
Past chuckled softly. “Even millions of years back, animals are still animals, I suppose.”
Ebenezer stopped laughing. His ribs ached. “Did… did you say millions?”
“Oh, yes!” Past grinned from ear to ear now. Any vestiges of anger from before had melted away into pure bliss. “Millions! Why do you think it took so long?”
“I— I— I didn’t—“
“Didn’t think the world was quite this old, did you?”
“No,” he stammered at last. “I certainly didn’t.”
“Neither did I! Believe me when I tell you, I was just as stunned as you are now. Your planet hides so many delightful little secrets. It’s a pastime of mine, trying to dig them all up!”
The beast ahead of them had encountered another like itself. Cautiously, the two paced around each other, sizing one another up as if preparing to fight. One opened its jaws and hissed. The other, slightly smaller and uninterested in conflict, slunk away through the water. A long tail dragged behind it.
“What are those things?” Ebenezer asked softly. He’d been too distracted by the thought of Prudence to ask before.
Past shrugged. “I don’t know!”
The larger beast continued its leisurely wading, devouring the odd small animal here and there.
“You seem much better now.” When he turned to Past, their flame danced contentedly. “I take it going to your ‘happy place’ worked?”
They nodded. “Thank you for accompanying me.”
“Anytime.”
Ebenezer wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the idea of someone enjoying his company.
But it was nice, having the chance to try.