Paradigm Rift: Book One of the Back to Normal Series Read Online Free PDF Page A

legitimate law enforcement won't get a sudden and heated phone call."
    The Chief reached back and snatched a folded newspaper. He slapped it against the bars by Denver's hand. "Check out the headlines, hotshot."
    Denver retrieved it with some reluctance:
     
    NORMAL JOURNAL FRIDAY, AUGUST 10, 1956.
     
    He shoved it back, unimpressed. "You know what they say, don't believe everything you read."
    The Chief appeared almost hurt, but shook his head as he stepped towards a console TV set. He muttered under his breath as he flipped it on, "I would get a stubborn Trailer right before a nice, quiet weekend." He smiled with confidence. "How about these TV shows, Ace?"
    The black and white set crackled alive, right in the middle of a skit on The Garry Moore Show . Denver studied it for a few seconds. “Yeah, I think my soon-to-be-ex has that whole show on DVD. Now listen, I'm not kidding—you better let me outta here!" He rattled the door to the cell. It didn't give much. "I know people!"
    The Chief marched over to the bars. "Know people? Not around here you don't. Listen! My name is Chief James McCloud. It is August the tenth, 1956. You are no longer in the heart of the Big Apple. You are in the middle of Normal, Illinois. You are a Jumper, and I am too. And we are not alone ."
    Denver stood there, half waiting for the punch line.
    It never came.
    He dropped back and plopped down onto his cot. Chief McCloud slid his chair closer. "Trust me—I know it's a lot to take in, but if you promise to play nice, promise you won't run, I wanna show you something."
    Denver looked up into the Chief's wide-eyed, grinning face, as his own thoughts were in a desperate struggle to connect the dots.
    This is way too elaborate for an office prank. Gotta be the government...yeah...it's got CIA or NSA written all over it. Maybe if I play along, I can get out quicker.
    The cop pushed his right hand between the bars. "Whaddya say? Deal?"
    Denver strained to take any of this seriously. "Uh, deal."
    The Chief slapped his hands together, grabbed his key ring, and unlocked the cell. "Now that's my boy. C'mon!"
    Denver took a few tentative steps out and sized up the Spartan room. A desk, gun cabinet, a few filing cabinets, chairs, large TV, concrete floor. He spotted a framed photo of President Eisenhower on the wall just to his left.
    Nice touch. These government psychological testing programs are very meticulous. Can't wait to see the rest of this operation.
    Chief McCloud trotted ahead of him towards the front door. As Denver got close, the Chief stepped aside and threw the door open for him, as if he were a visiting magistrate. “Right this way, Mr. Collins.”
    Denver exited the imitation police station into the bright sunlight of a late summer day, and was blinded for a few seconds. The Chief shut the door and flanked him.
     
    "Welcome to Normal, Illinois!"

Journal entry number 21
    Monday, April 15, 1946

    Ken is approaching his one week anniversary. I think he is doing better than I was at Jump+7—no scratch that—I KNOW that he is doing better.
     
    It is difficult to describe how immensely helpful Ken is, how much of a relief it is to actually be able to talk freely with another human being. It’s like I have been trapped in a foreign country, and I barely know the language, and then suddenly, I meet another American, better yet: an American from near my home town.
     
    We are eight years apart (jump-date-wise), two states apart geographically, and politically only one president removed. He asked me yesterday if Carter won a second term. I didn’t tell him, but I’m afraid my face did.
     
    Having Ken around changes things profoundly. It’s like having your own apartment, and then taking on a roommate. When you are alone, you really don’t need formal rules, because, well…it’s just you. And who cares? But then, there are TWO. An object alone can generate no conflict, but with two, friction is possible, rather…it is probable .
     
    But