The Mandela Effect

Wednesday, June 2, the Thursday before school is out.

The sun was setting, but that didn’t stop the heat from clinging to Beau as he rode his bike along the two-lane country roads. He peddled faster, making the backpack swing from side to side with the two-liter soda bottles while steadying the large pizza box on his handlebars. He wondered whether he should tell Tony about the soda or let him be the one to open the bottles so he could get sprayed in the face.

As the bottles bounced on his back and his hands felt like they would melt from the heat of the pizza, Beau thought about next year and how it would be fifteen, which meant he could get his learner’s permit. The thought of driving, being free, and no longer having to be under his stepfather’s roof was a feeling he couldn’t even describe. There were only two more days left of school. Then he and his best friends Mike and Tony would have the whole summer to dig deep into all the new Mandela Effects that had happened over the last few months. That had been Beau’s passion over the last three years, right after his dad had died.

Mike’s house was an old two-story New Englander that had been in his mother’s family for as long as he could remember, from what he had told Beau. And it was where Beau and Tony would go every Thursday night to watch their favorite podcaster, Cookie Bear, in her Creepy World podcast. The old white two-story house came into view as a big rig hauled past Beau, causing the bike to swerve and almost drop the pizza.

With the food in hand, Beau ran to the house’s front door, opened it, and shouted up the staircase, “I’m here, so you two assholes better not have started the video without me!”

“We didn’t dickhead... did you bring the pizza?” Tony shouted back.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

The room was dark, with only the light from the computer screen as Beau put the pizza on the small table and unpacked the soda bottles before glancing at Mike, who was clacking away on the keyboard. “What’s going on?”

“Cookie Bear is going live tonight.”

“Really, what time?”

“Ten,”

Tony went for the soda bottle. “Shit, I have to be home by six. My mom said that she wants me to have dinner with her and my dad before she doesn’t see me for the next couple of months. Then he opened the soda and swore as he was splashed in the face, making Beau and Mike laugh. “You asshole!”

“Hey man, it’s the perks of getting the food,” Beau shrugged.

“Yeah, well, payback is a bitch,” Tony griped, going to the bathroom to clean off.

Beau took two slices of pizza and handed one to Mike, who sat beside him. “Did Cookie Bear put up a new video?”

“Yeah, but it’s strange that she’s doing a livestream tonight, too. Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something big is up,” Beau said, kicking his feet onto the desk. “Hey, is your mom going to be home tonight?”

“No, she’s working the third shift at the hospital; why?” Mike asked, glancing over at Beau, who was frowning. “Did you get into a fight with John again?”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight. I just told John that he sucked at being a husband, a stepfather, and a sheriff. Then I told him that my dad was not only a better cop, but he was also a better chief of police.”

“Holy shit, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I hated him, and I wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, did it work?”

“Why do you think I need a place to stay for the night?”

“Yeah, I’m sure my mom won’t care. You pretty much live here now anyway,”

“Cool, thanks.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, but”

“But what?”

“What did your mom say?”

Beau shook his head and stared at the food in his hand. “She was crying when I left.”

“Oh,”

“Don’t start, okay. I love my mom, but I’m still so pissed she married John two years after my dad was shot,”

“Hey, I get it. I was just asking,”

Beau sat back, not wanting to talk anymore, and stared at the screen when Tony walked back in, drying off his hair and going for a dry shirt from Mike’s dresser drawer. “Let’s get this meeting going,” Tony said, pulling up a seat.

“Okay, here we go,” Mike grinned and hit the play button.

A woman’s voice came on as part of the video, which was playing on the screen of someone driving a car, looking out at the city. “Welcome, all you Mandela Effect lovers out there. Cookie Bear here once again to give you all the ins and outs of the newest and weirdest Mandella effects that have taken place this week. In the past, I could only find one or two to show you guys. But in the last couple of months, the frequencies of the phenomenon have been ramping up,”

“Then, something happened to me this week. And it happened while driving downtown. I caught it on my dashcam. I swear I did not manipulate or change anything I’m about to show you in any way. Honesty, I didn’t even realize it happened until I came home and checked out the footage. But what I caught is unbelievable, and I believe it proves without a shadow of a doubt that the Mandela Effect is real. Are you ready to have your minds blown? Here we go,”

Mike stopped the video, and Beau and Tony groaned. “Do you think it’s true, or she’s faking it for clicks?”

“Shit, man, turn it back on so we can see and find out!” Tony griped, throwing a piece of paper at him.

“Fine,”

The video started playing, and the boys watched as the sight of the building passed by and stopped. “Okay, right here was where I stopped at a red light. Now, I want you to look at the Travers Bank sign. What color do you see?”

“Blue,” All three boys said.

“It’s blue, but it’s a dark blue. You see that, right?”

“Yes,” The boys answered again.

“Now watch that sign as I drive by, and I mean really watch it,” she said as the video started to run again. The boys sat closer to the screen, glued to the sign as instructed. At first, nothing happened, but then the blue started to lighten. As she began to drive away, the Travers Bank sign was as light as a soft blue, starting to turn purple.

“No effin way!” Mike mumbled.

“Did you see it?” The woman said, rewinding the video. “Right here, we can see that the sign is still blue, but it’s changing. By the time I drive past it, it’s now a light lilac… see,” she said, playing it repeatedly. “Now, the trippy part is, I remember Travers Bank being blue. I remember the commercials with their blue logo and when they would pop up on my social media accounts. This bank is the biggest in the country; they are everywhere. They are as common as peanut butter and jelly.”

“But now, when I Google Travers Bank,” the video was gone, and her computer screen came up, and they watched her type in Google, “Look at the Travers sign. It’s a dark purple. Then, when I look up Travers Bank with a blue sign… There are no photos of it at all. And when I dug into the archives of my city and looked for photos of the Travers building being built, look,” And up popped a photo. The sign was purple, and it was during the ribbon-cutting ceremony. “And that’s not all. Watch,” She started a video of the construction work and the sign being put on the side of the building, which was purple. “It is as if the traditional blue sign never existed. This, my freaky friends, is proof we are living in some kind of time warp, and there is some freaky shit going down.

“Tell me what you remember the Travers Bank sign being, and do you have an explanation for what my dashcam picked up. Until next week, keep searching for the truth.”

Mike first searched Google for Travers Bank, and all the photos appeared worldwide. “They are all purple,”

“That’s so weird. I can still see it as blue; it’s always been blue,” Beau mumbled, staring at the screen. But he noticed that Tony was quiet as he gazed at the images. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I watched what happened and saw the sign turn from blue to purple.”

“So,” Beau asked.

“I remember the sign always being purple.”

“What?” Beau barked, his eyes widening.

“Really?” Mike chimed in.

Tony got up, turned on the lights, and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s weird. I know what I saw, but I can’t remember when the sign wasn’t purple… what do you think that means?”

“I don’t know,” Mike answered, leaning back into his computer chair. “Maybe this one Mandela effect works on you. But that’s no big deal. I mean, I don’t remember the little mark between the Kit Kat bar.”

Tony started to pace around the floor, “This isn’t good, man. It isn’t good at all,”

“Tony, why the hell are you freaking out?” Beau laughed, getting up and touching his friend’s shoulder. “We’ve all had something that we remember differently, and things we remember as they say it is now. Big deal. What is going to happen, really?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll disappear or something,”

“I think you mean that Mike and me would disappear because we remember it the original way. We would be the ones cast into the old world, while you would stay in this world.”

“Yeah, I guess. But it still freaks me out,”

“Don’t let it. I’m sure something big will happen that either Mike or I won’t agree with. Hell, it might be all three of us,”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed when his phone went off in his back pocket. He pulled it out, frowned, texted something, and shoved the phone into his back pocket. “That’s my mom. It’s dinner time,” he said, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“We’ll see you tomorrow at school,” Mike shouted as footsteps ran down the stairs.

“Facetime me when Cookie does her livestream,” Tony shouted before slamming the door.

Beau lay on Mike’s bed, staring at the poster on the ceiling, tossing a tennis ball in his hand. “Tony needs to learn to chill, or he’s going to give himself a mental breakdown.”

“Do you think it’s weird that Tony doesn’t remember the sign the way we do, even after he watched it change?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s his kryptonite in the Mandela Effect.” Beau shrugged.

“Maybe, but it is strange how everything seems to be amping up lately.”

“Nah, everything always comes in waves. Before you know it, there will be nothing going on at all, and we’ll be watching old videos of all this cool stuff,”

“You don’t seem worried,”

“Why should I be? I’ve been watching all these things happen for almost two years now. What’s going to happen? Another movie has changed. A famous guy comes back to life. Big deal,”

“People coming back to life is a big deal. What if one of us dies off? Then what?”

“Then I would find a way to bring you back. Just like Nelson Mandela,” Beau chuckled.

“But what if you don’t remember. Have you thought of that?”

Beau glanced at Mike and grinned before throwing the tennis ball at the wall. “You and I have remembered everything that they say that the Mandela Effect has changed. Dude, we are resilient to its effects. So, of course, I would remember you, stupid.”

“You swear?”

“I swear on my father’s grave that I will bring you back,”

“Okay, good,” Mike nodded and then grabbed a slice of pizza. “So, tomorrow night is the first night of summer vacation. Are you coming over for horror movies and video games?”

“Nope,”

“Why, what do you have planned?”

“Lauren Driskell said she would meet me in the dugout at seven.”

“You’re a lying sack of shit,”

“I’m not lying. In fact, I made out with her the other day, and when I asked if she wanted to do something after school on Friday, she said sure,”

“You lucky son of a gun! I heard she let Dave Egan go all the way to second base.”

“Yeah, well, I plan on hitting a home run.”

“You dog,”

“Never mind about that now. Get things ready for the live stream, and I’ll give you all the steamy details tomorrow.”

“Okay, but I want a play-by-play rundown.”

“Don’t be gross, dude. I’ll give you some of it.”

“You better.”

Beau’s smile grew as he closed his eyes. “Wake me up when the show begins,”