The Wrong Head Tumbled

As she kneeled there, the image of the Red Queen shouting “Off with her head!” flashed through her mind. She was mildly disappointed that her life didn’t flash in front of her eyes, but considering the circumstances, she didn’t feel right being too disappointed.

It started a couple weeks ago when Marta got into an argument with her best friend over the most idioctic reason. Her parents expressed their disappointment to her for changing her major from pre-med to art in her senior year of college. Jackie had always been her biggest supporter of her artistic endeavors and Marta was shocked when she sided with her parents. She has a gift. Everyone says so. Pre-med was always her parents' idea even though she struggled through STEM classes while winning numerous competitions for her art.

For the first time in their sixteen years of friendship, they screamed at each other from their respective campuses through their cell phones. They both believed they were right and refused to concede any points for the other’s argument. They were also both in public and became spectacles to their peers as they scrambled and cried and insisted the other was in the wrong.

Marta turned from the quad to seek refuge in the park off campus. Jackie left the commons of her dorm building to head outside. Both women found themselves alone and isolated with the red eyes and snotty noses that were the remnants of their rage.

Marta felt like a rip had opened her heart. Jackie’s reaction was so unexpected and out of her nature. There was no real future for her in med school. It was highly unlikely she wouldn’t get in. Despite numerous discussions with her parents with evidence to back up her claim, they insisted their only child would become a doctor and make them proud. They took her failure to thrive in STEM classes as a selfish act on her part. On the other hand, math and science came naturally to Jackie who excelled in every scholastic attempt. However, she was one of six kids in a lower middle class family that needed her at home to help keep the family afloat. She worked full time while taking community college classes part time, so she could help watch her younger siblings and bring money home to keep utilities on and food on the table. Deep down she resented Marta’s carefree lifestyle of just having to attend classes and not even doing well when she had all the time in the world to utilize her university's numerous tutoring services. Who cares if she struggled, if she worked harder, she could overcome her deficiencies. She wholeheartedly agreed with Marta’s parents. Instead, Marta spent every available moment following her passion and creating exquisite pieces of art.

Jackie spent her minimal free time working on a special project in her school’s mostly abandoned physics lab. There weren’t advanced sciences anymore since the school transitioned to a 2 year college after half the campus was bought by a big university which built their own facilities. Her professor was thrilled to give her access and left her mostly unsupervised. Most of his students showed little interest other than getting just the required credits.

Marta spent her time on a new project. She had been drawn to the stories of women from history who were unfairly executed. She wanted to capture the pain in their eyes the moment before death. It was a harrowing yet beautiful series showcasing anguish, bravery, defiance, and brutality. Currently, she worked on her piece for Anne Boleyn spending hours at her easel while miles away Jackie barely managed to work on her physics project. She was toying with a sort of time travel–not to go back in time to change outcomes of her life or any event in history, but to give herself more time to focus on school like Hermione did in that one Harry Potter book. She was actually making progress.

That’s why she harbored so much resentment. She had to actually invent some sort of time travel device to have an equal chance at school as Marta. It wasn’t fair. She graduated in the top 3% of a very prestigious school only to stay home and take care of children who weren’t hers and earn money she didn’t really get to save or spend. Marta had it so easy and took things for granted. It hadn’t bothered her so much before when they were both just school kids, but no real life showed the disparity in their lives, and she felt cheated. Marta could literally become a doctor and yet she chose to throw it away to paint pictures. No wonder her parents were mad. They wanted her to be successful and self-sufficient with a good career and not be dependent on them as she doodled in the basement.

When Marta had called with the “good news”, Jackie’s mother had just given her the bad news that she wanted her to take a year off college to work and help out more at home. She was so close to success that it wouldn’t matter how much time she had, but that wasn’t the point. Jackie felt she shouldn’t have to alter time to have the life that Marta was given. When that loud screaming match ended, she returned to her lab determined to persevere until she succeeded even if it meant missing school pickup or her next shift.

Marta chose to paint the pain she was feeling. She would use it for poor Anne, the mother of a queen, who was doomed to die. She stared in the mirror as she began to paint and transferred her emotion to the canvas. It was turning out to be her most brilliant artwork yet. What her friend and parents failed to realize was that she was as gifted in the studio as Jackie was in the lab.

And that’s when it happened the first time, Jackie felt a pull in the core of her body yank her forward. Next thing she knew, she was in Marta’s studio looking into the eyes of Anne Boleyn.

“What are you doing here?” Marta asked, astonished.

“What happened?” Jackie asked, simultaneously. The two women stood dumbfounded for several minutes.

“Are you here to apologize?” Marta finally asked, breaking the silence.

“What? I don’t even know how I got here,” she responded. Again, there were several minutes of silence. Marta couldn’t figure out how she arrived so fast even if she had speed the entire way, it wasn’t physically possible for her to be standing in her campus’s art studio. It was a huge campus that Jackie had never visited. The parking situation for a seasoned student alone would make this feat improbable. You have to know exactly which lot to park in and which bus to take to get you closest to the destined building and best case scenario, that would be a 30 minute journey on a good day. Plus, the three hour drive. It had only been a couple of hours since the phone call.

“I think I time traveled,” Jackie said doubtfully. It didn’t make sense. Distance travel was more likely and even that wasn’t possible.

“What? Are you here to apologize or not?”

“I just told you that I think I time traveled, and you’re asking for an apology?”

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t know!” They were both beginning to raise their voices. The couple of other artists and the TA in the office were staring.

“Did you come here to argue with me more?” Marta demanded.

“I didn’t come here at all,” Jackie replied.

“The evidence suggests otherwise,” she retorted. Jackie was always on about evidence and facts and data and findings. It was a jab at her.

“Teleported,” Jackie said.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking out loud. It’s obviously not time traveling; it’s teleportation. That’s still fucking impressive.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Marta, how do you think I got here?”

“You must’ve driven like a speed demon!”

“I didn’t drive. I just appeared,” she insisted.

“I don’t have time for this,” Marta exclaimed, which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“You don’t even know what it’s like to not have time!” Jackie screeched. “All you have is time! You have no responsibilities and take nothing seriously just so you can make pointless paintings!”

“You always encouraged my art!” Marta screeched back.

“That was in middle and high school! We’re adults now. At least I am. I have a job. I make money. I take care of my family. You just fiddle around with a paintbrush and never have to face the real world. You could be saving lives; instead you’re changing paint water,” all the pent up resentment was on full display now.

“Oh, the truth comes out, right? You’re jealous that I wasn’t born into a family with so many mouths to feed there’s no way your parents could successfully do it on their own. Don’t take that out on me. I will never be out there saving lives, you know why? Because I can’t! I will never pass the MCATs. My work, on the other hand, reaches people’s souls. I will leave behind a legacy that will impact future generations, while you just tinker around in an old lab with nothing to show for it. Who will even see your success? An old spider in the corner? The janitor who sweeps it out? If what you say is true and you are as magnificent as you claim, the best you can do is make a teleporter which would be significant if you weren’t trying to make some kind of Wellsian time machine. You can’t even get your science fiction right!”

“Wow,” Jacke said calmly as she did an about face and stormed out. Once out, she had no idea what to do or where to go. Then she felt that pull in her core again and found herself back in the quads. Her phone rang.

“Marta?”

“Yeah, I’m calling because I just talked to my parents about changing my major. I’m back in the commons like I was when I called you before.”

“Yeah, I’m back in the quads,” Jackie responded.

“Jackie,” Marta said.

“Yeah,” Jackie replied.

“Did you really make a time machine?”

Marta, I don’t know. I’m going back to my lab. I’ll call you later.”

And that’s it. That’s how it started.

The next day repeated. They woke fully aware that it was the same day as the previous. When Marta called Jackie, Jackie declined the call. Marta was relieved. She returned to the studio to find Anne’s progress had not changed. She was much relieved. In all honesty, the painting was more important to her than this friendship. She had been harboring resentment as well. Jackie was so good at science and math that she took it for granted. When she discussed physics, she expected everyone to understand her and be on her level. For years, she had made disparaging jabs at Marta’s intelligence which she tried to play off despite the sting. A few times, she tried to set boundaries to be told it wasn’t that serious by Jackie. Her feelings were never that serious compared to her tinkering with electronics. When she would ask to change the subject to something they were both interested in, they often found they no longer had anything to say. That night both women feared what would happen when they got up in the morning.

Nothing happen. The next day was finally the next day.

Then Jackie called.

“I guess we’re in the clear now,” she declared.

“Thank goodness, I hope so.” There was silence for a while until Jackie finally said, “I’m going to get back to work.” Jackie went back to the lab, and Marta went back to the studio. Marta stared at her haunted eyes and added new elements to her painting. Jackie had an inspiration and did a complex series of equations before altering her project.

They both woke up to the first repeated day repeating again. Marta wanted to cry. She didn’t want to tell her parents yet again about her career path change. She didn’t have the heart. When she got to the studio, the paints in her painting had melted and swirled, distorting the image she had been working so hard to create. Instead she called Jackie to chastise her for causing this debacle. This led to another fight. The next day the day repeated. Jackie theorized that it was the phone call that triggered the repetition, but she didn’t know how to convey that to her former friend. Would a text work the same way?

Hey, don’t call me. I think it’s the phone call that’s causing the day to repeat.

Marty

That actually sounds great! I no longer want to speak to you.

They didn’t communicate again until today. Marta walked into her regular studio but instead of all the paraphernalia associated with painting, it was a sculpture studio. Several people were surrounding a sculpture.

“It’s grotesque, not art. This belongs in a Spirit Halloween store ,” the TA laughed.

“Agreed,” another artist remarked. They walked away as she reproached. What she saw there was the dismembered head of her Anne Boleyn in clay on her table. She was as disturbed by it as the others. It wasn’t just the gruesomeness; it was the amateurishness Clay wasn’t her medium, but she was more skilled than what she saw in front of her. From the studio office she heard the following conversation.

“She’s supposed to be some kind of science nerd. One day she just changed majors to art. It’s bizarre because she has no talent.”

“I really want to laugh at that abomination, but it’s just so sad.”

“What was she thinking? Maybe she’s actually good at other mediums.”

“She’s not,” the TA responded. “She’s tried everything. It all sucks. You should see her painting.”

Tears started welling in Marta’s eyes, but she mostly felt rage towards Jackie and her tinkering with time. She picked up her phone not caring if the day restarted.

This was the moment Jackie was waiting for. She had been tinkering. She needed Marta to initiate a call, but day after day, her phone remained silent. She had altered her project to allow for more than just teleportation and time travel. She hated her life while longing for Marta’s and figured out how to take it. But Marta would have to call her to initiate the transfer causing them to swap places. If everything worked correctly, when she woke up the next morning, she would be Marta. She didn’t know or care what Marta became. She imagined what it would be like to only attend school and not have the pressures of her current life. She was willing to forever lose her family and their demands on her time and mental health. Her life would be leisurely and easy. She would not change her major. Ace the MCATS, and be the doctor Marta’s parents wanted. She just had to alter the past a little bit to ruin Marta’s life enough to make her make the call.

“Jackie?” Marta asked, when there was no response from the other end of the call.

"Boy, bring me my sword!" the kneeling woman turned her head bewildered before suddenly recognizing the moment. It was one she had discussed many times. As she kneeled there, the image of the Red Queen shouting “Off with her head!” flashed through her mind. She was mildly disappointed that her life didn’t flash in front of her eyes, but considering the circumstances, she didn’t feel right being too disappointed. And then it was over. With one professional swipe, her head was no longer attached to her body. She didn’t even have time to wonder where she went wrong.

Marta woke up the next day equally gifted in art and STEM. She had options, but no memory of a friend named Jackie.