The Mandela Effect

Ch 3

***BEEEEEEEEP***

The honking horn greets Jon the moment he steps out of the front door of the building and onto the street. He can't say for sure that Mark had been honking the entire time, but it is a safe bet. The sound is only slightly harsher than the blistery cold that slaps him in the face as he exits the warmth of the building to the exterior.

Jon hunches his shoulders against the wind, descendes the stairs and heads towards the curb. He is only a few steps away when Mark tries to send a clearer message.

***BEEEEEEEEEP***

"I'm right here, man," Jon yells.

Mark laughs and, as Jon closes the last few strides, the trunk pops open. Jon maneuvers his bags, unlayering as he goes, and puts them into the trunk. Finally, he has everything settled; he closes the trunk and walks around to the passenger side.

For good measure, just before he could grab the door handle. Mark gives the horn another tap. Jon nods an apology to a passing pedestrian. He opens the door and climbs in.

"What are you, twelve?" Jon asks as he sat down.

"If I was twelve I couldn't drive," Mark responded, laughing.

Jon closes the door and put on his seat belt, "Are you worried we're going to be late?"

"I don't care about being late," Mark says, "We're fine on time. I'm worried that now I'm only going to have for maybe two drinks before the flight."

"Oh no," Jon says, feigning concern, "not that. Anything but that!"

"Just remember," Mark responds, "if I'm not drunk on the flight, you're going to have to deal with the consequences."

With that, Mark puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb. While the car merged into traffic, Jon reachs over and cranks up the heat.

"I don't know how you sat in this cold," Jon says.

"I've lived in Chicago my whole life," Mark chortles, "this is mild. I don't even wear a coat when I'm just crossing campus. I would have thinks you'd be used to it after so long."

Jon rubs his hands together and blows into them for warmth, "Maybe I'm cold blooded after all?"

Mark gives him a look.

"You know," Jon says, "after every exam, it's the first thing my student say!"

They both laugh. Mark maneuvers the car onto the highway on-ramp.

"You must be excited about this trip," Mark says.

"I'm excited to be getting out of Chicago," Jon answers, "the warm climate is definitely a plus though."

"But especially to South Africa, right?" Mark continues.

"Yea," Jon says, "but I'm also a little nervous."

Mark seems confused, "nervous?"

"Yea," Jon responds, "I haven't been home in..." Jon trails off as he thinks back.

There is a long pause of silence. Mark looks over at him.

"That long?" Mark asks.

"Wow," Jon says, realizing, "nearly forty years."

"Woah," Mark chokes, "that is a long time."

"Yea," Jon says, shaking his head, "I didn't even realize until right now. I haven't had the opportunity to go back, or the reason really."

Mark chuckles, "Really? I bet."

"Well I mean," Jon starts but doesn't finish the thinks.

After a pause, Mark says, "Right. So, are you going 'home home'?"

"I can't really avoid it this time," Jon says.

"I'm not sure I get it," Mark responds.

"Well, the last time I was any place close to home," Jon says, "was before social media. Now, I can keep up with everyone at home without being there..."

"But," Mark interrupts, "they also know you're going to be nearby."

"Exactly," Jon sighs, "so there's no avoiding it."

"Well," Mark says, trying to sound supportive, "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Yea," Jon answers, looking out the window, "I'm sure it will."

There's another lull in the conversation. A minute or two passes without a word being spoken.

"I guess we both could use a drink, huh?" Mark says very seriously.

They both laugh.