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“So, what brings you guys around these parts?” Pete asked, suddenly,breaking the awkward silence that had grown around the three of us.
“Just passing through,” Alex answered, quickly, giving me a look out of thecorner of his eye that I couldn’t quite read. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Psh, no one just ‘passes through’ here,” Pete replied, “everyone’s alwayscoming into town for trade, or to pay their dues to the Princess, or on one ofthose Journey things, but they never stay long. Actually,” she paused for amoment, looking thoughtful, “I guess the Journey guys would be the only onesactually just ‘passing through’. If they make it through, I mean.”
“What do you mean, ‘if they make it through’?” I asked. Alex gave me anotherunreadable sideways glance. I ignored him. If whatever he wanted was thatimportant, he could just say it, already. I wasn’t a mind reader.
“Oh, you know, they lose track of what’s important, I guess. It’s easy toget distracted around here if you don’t have a clear goal.”
“I see.”
“I’ve always wanted to go on one of the Journeys,” she continued, “Well, noton one, really, because no one really wants to be the person having togo through it all, but as a Guide, I think would be kind of fun. See otherlands; build up some points for helping out one of the Lost. It would be agreat adventure--better than anything around here.”
I pondered this for a moment, “Who are these ‘Lost’?” I asked.
Pete looked at me as if I had just asked her what colour the sky was, “Youknow, the Lost—the people who have to go on the Journey, through all the Tests?They’re normally looking for something to redeem them from some mistake theymade, usually because—“
“Hey, is that a lake?” Alex asked, suddenly, interrupting Pete’s explanationand pointing to a shining body of water a few yards to the left of the road.
“Shiny!” Pete exclaimed, almost skipping towards the sight.
I scowled at him, annoyed by his obvious distraction as a change in subjectroutine.
“What?” he asked, innocently, reading my expression, “I’m thirsty.”
“Right,” I answered, unconvinced. I followed closely behind him as we madeour way across the grass toward the water. Pete led the way, a few feet aheadof us. “Why did you interrupt her?” I hissed to my lanky companion, “What is sofreaking important that you keep secret? I think that I have a right to know—“
“You do have a right to know,” he interrupted, “and you will, just in time.You have to have a little patience.”
“Fuck patience,” I swore, becoming more irritated by the second, “I thinkthat I’ve been pretty damned compliant throughout all this, and I’m a bit tiredof this whole ‘you have to learn for yourself’ bullshit! You have no right—“
“No, little girl, you have no right accusing me of being anything buton your side,” Alex hissed back, stopping and pointing his finger in my face,“I’m taking a huge chance helping you out like this. It was by your ownactions that you landed yourself here in the first place, so don’t go blaming me,just because you were incapable of—“ he cut himself short, closing his eyes andrunning his hand through his hair, and taking a deep breath as he tried to geta hold of his temper.
“Incapable of what?” I asked. He turned away from me, and started walkingagain. Not letting him get away that easily, I chased after, setting myselffirmly in front of him, “Alex, answer me, incapable of what?” When hewouldn’t meet my eyes, I decided it wasn’t worth arguing anymore, and quickenedmy pace until I met up with Pete.
“Lover’s quarrel?” Pete asked when I joined her.
I stared at the small cat-like girl, mouth agape, “Pshawhat?” I sputtered.
She gestured behind us at Alex, “You and him. You guys in a fight?”
“Well, yeah, I’m pretty pissed at him at the moment, but I think you’vegotten the wrong idea, here. We’re not, I mean, he isn’t, I mean….”
The cat-like girl rolled her eyes, shaking her head, “Alright, Mandy, calmdown, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
I frowned, continuing our little trek towards the lake.
“We’re not together,” I stated, again, after a moment or two of silence.
“Kay,” was all that she answered.
As the three of us drew closer to the lake, faintly, on the wind, there wasa voice, “Oh no, oh dear, oh no.”
Pete and I looked at each other, “What was that?”
“Oh no, oh dear, oh no,” the voice answered.
“Sounds like someone’s in trouble up by the lake,” Alex piped up from behindus.
“Good job, Captain Obvious,” I answered, glaring back at him. He lookedhurt. I felt a pang of guilt, but quickly pushed it away. I was mad at him. Ihad to remember to stay that way until I got some answers, “Still,” Icontinued, “we should probably check it out.”
“What if it’s a ghost or something?” Pete asked.
I rolled my eyes, “It’s not a ghost.”
“But what if it is?”
“Then I’ll….hit it with a rake or something.”
“I don’t think that will work. Wouldn’t a rake go right through it? I mean—“
“It’s a magic rake,” I countered, dryly, cutting her off.
“Oh, ok,” she replied, seemingly satisfied. All I could do was shake myhead. This girl was just weird. I liked that, though. It was almost comfortingin a way.
What we actually found at the lake, while not a ghost, was almost just asfrightening.
It was a talking frog.
“Oh, hello,” said the frog, sniffling a bit as he saw us approach. He sat inthe mud of the bank, tears streaming down his face. He was rather large for afrog—about the size of a housecat. Around his neck was a black bow tie. A smartlittle top hat rested on his green head. He reminded me of the cartoon frogthat used to play dead to make his master seem insane on Looney Tunes. ‘Cept,you know, sadder.
I looked at my companions, “Did that frog just talk to us?” I asked out ofthe corner of my mouth, trying not to draw attention to my surprise. I didn’twant to be rude, after all.
“Pete has cat ears,” Alex answered, by way of an explanation.
“Point taken,” I replied. I looked back at the frog, who seemed to be lostagain in his own despair, “So…what do we do?”
“Uh, talk to it?” Alex suggested in a tone so sarcastic it made my ‘CaptainObvious’ quip hang its head in shame.
“Why do I have to talk to it?” I asked, “Make Pete talk to it. She’s the onewho’s from around here.”
“Huh uh,” Pete protested, clinging to Alex’s arm a bit, “talking animalsfreak me out.”
I stared at her, “Talking animals freak you out?”
“Well yeah, frogs aren’t supposed to talk, man, it’s just weird.” She clungeven tighter to Alex’s arm, hiding herself slightly behind him.
“I am not even going to try and point out the irony in that one,” I sighed,“alright, fine, I’ll do the talking.”
I took a deep breath, summoning up all of my nerve. I wasn’t exactlyfrightened of the crying, talking frog, but it was definitely not high on mylist of “things that are normal and therefore safe”.
“Um, hello, Mr. Frog,” I greeted, taking a step towards the snifflingamphibian. Ok, I actually stumbled forward a step, as I was quite rudely nudgedforward by one of my cowering companions, but taking the step on my own soundsmuch more courageous.
“Hello,” answered the frog, wiping away a little froggy tear with his littlefroggy foot-hand-appendage thing.
“Are…are you okay? We heard you crying from over by the road. What’s wrong?”
The frog sighed, his little chest seeming to expand twice as large with theeffort, “It’s my mistress’ ball,” he explained, “Her favorite golden ball. Shedropped it while walking by the lake this morning and she was so upset, howcould I not come back and try and find it for her? I spied it from the bank,and I thought I could reach it, but, alas, I fell in and was turned into thismiserable creature you see before you.”
“So…you weren’t always a frog?” I asked, confused.
The frog laughed, bitterly, straightening his little shoulders a bit, “Ofcourse not. I am the head steward for Her Majesty Princess Avaritia, RandolphoSmith.”
“Randolpho….Smith,” I echoed.
“Yes, of the Chestershire Smiths. I come from a long line of stewards,” Hesighed again, “all of which who would be mortified to find that their offspringhad been reduced to this.” He gestured in an all encompassing way tohimself.
“So how did the lake turn you into a frog?” I asked, still confused on thefiner details of steward to frog transformation.
“Why, it’s enchanted, dear child. Cursed, by a vicious fairy with too muchtime on her hands. Anyone who becomescompletely submerged within its waters are changed.”
“Into frogs?”
“Not always frogs. No, this is a curse all of my own. Every curse is uniqueto the individual. It’s never the same curse twice.”
“She did have too much time on her hands,” Pete spoke up from her hidingplace behind Alex.
Randolpho the frog nodded, wisely, “Yes, indeed, child. Yes, indeed.”
“So, if you’re already cursed, why don’t you just jump in and get the ball?It’s not like you can get turned into a frog, again.”
“Do you not think that I have tried?” he cried, impassioned, a new spring oftears welling up in his beady little eyes, “The ball is solid gold! It is tooheavy for me to lift in this puny little body! Oh, I have failed. How can Ireturn to the castle? How can I ever return to my beloved Princess Avaritia?”He threw himself onto the muddy bank, sobs wracking his tiny green frame.
“Awww, you love the Princess?” Pete cooed, stepping out from her hidingplace. She walked up to the weeping frog and stroked his head, comfortinglywith one finger, “Does she love you back?”
“Whatever happened to you being afraid of talking animals?” I whispered,leaning into her ear.
“He’s so sad. They’re not scary when they’re sad,” she whispered back.
“He was crying when we got here.”
“Yeah, but now he’s crying and in love!” she explained.
“I’m not even going to try and understand how your brain works,” I stated,giving up. I turned my attention back to our scaly friend, “So, what about it,Randolpho, how does the Princess feel about you?”
“Oh, I daren’t ask,” he anwered, wiping away tears, “How could a marvelouscreature such as she love but a lowly steward such as myself? She is the sun inthe sky, the stars in the heavens, the flies on a dung pile…wait…not the lastone. Oh this transformation is affecting my brain! How long until I become afull frog? I can never face her again, never!”
“Awwww,” Pete cooed again, continuing to pet the poor creature.
“Relax, Frog-man, we’ll find a way to turn you back. A curse can’t existwithout some kind of anti-curse, right? We’ll find someone who can lift it foryou,” I offered.
“You…” Randolpho sniffled again, “you would do that for me?”
“Of course we would,” I answered, “We can’t just leave you here like this.It’d just be mean.”
“Oh thank you, thank you, child!” the frog cried, wrapping his sticky littlearms around my ankle in a hug, “You have no idea what this means to me!” Hestopped for a moment, pulling back from his death grip on my leg, a frownmarring his features, “But wait…what about my mistress’ ball? I cannot returnto the castle without that. I cannot bear her sadness when it is not with her.”
“We’ll get the ball, too. You said that you were almost able to reach itfrom the bank, right? I’m sure, if he tried, Alex could get it, right Alex?” Isuggested, looking hopefully to my lanky companion.
“What are you looking at me for?” He asked, frowning, “You’re not speakingto me, remember?”
I rolled my eyes, “Oh, come on, don’t be such a girl. You’re the tallest,and have the longest arms. Besides, this isn’t for me, it’s for Randolpho. Howcan you say no to that sad little face?”
“I’d love to help, really, I would, but the truth is, I can’t swim.”
“You can’t swim?”
“Nope. Not even a dog paddle, and so if I fell in, not only would I becursed, but I’d be cursed and drowned, and neither of those sound veryexciting. Sorry.”
I shook my head at him, and then turned to Pete.
“Huh uh,” she protested, her eyes growing wide, “don’t look at me. Cat.Water.” She pointed to both herself and the lake in turn, “Do I have to say anymore?”
I sighed, throwing up my hands, “Fine. I’ll do it!”
“Oh, thank you kind child!” the frog cried, again, again latching onto myankle, “I do not know how I shall ever repay you!”
“Thank me, later,” I answered, “Now where is this ball, exactly?”
The frog detached himself and hopped further up the bank. The three of usfollowed until he stopped a good thirty feet away. I could see the ball shiningthough the crystalline clear water amongst the silt and rocks that lined thebottom, a good three feet or so down.
“Do you think you can reach it?” the frog asked, hopefully.
I shrugged, “I can try. Can’t guarantee anything, though.” That said, Ikneeled along the bank, slightly disgusted at the way that my knees sank intothe mud. Bracing one hand on the ground, I reached as far as I could into thewater, my fingertips just brushing the hard surface of the ball. I wiggled myfingers, trying to inch it closer, but only succeeded in pushing it furtheraway. I adjusted myself, scooting a little bit closer to the water, and triedagain.
“Almost…almost…” I groaned, stretching as far as I could. Suddenly, just asI felt my fingers finally close around the golden orb, the mud under the hand Iwas bracing myself with seemed to fall away, my weight pushing it into thelake, and I found myself falling forward. I barely had time to scream before Ifelt myself splash into the lake, sinking quickly into the water. I felt asharp pain in my head as I hit the bottom and then there was darkness.
“What are you doing in here?” James asks, wandering into theliving room.
I look up from the television screen that has been holding my attentionfor the past fifteen minutes or so, “I can’t figure out what path I want totake on this game,” I answer.
He crosses the room, plopping himself down on the couch beside me, “Youstarted twenty minutes ago. You still haven’t chosen your character?”
“Oh shush,” I admonish, turning back to the screen, “this is the mostimportant decision I’m gonna make in this thing. What I choose now will affectthe entire course of the rest of the game.”
He rests his arm on my shoulder, absently playing with my hair, “So whatare the choices?”
“The Path of Knowledge or the Path of Power.”
“Psh, that’s easy,” he snorts, “Power, duh.”
“What?” I frown, “Why Power?”
“Easier battles which means quicker leveling, which means better loot.”
“Yeah, but I’ll have very little magic that way, and with harder battlesmagic might come in handy.” I countered.
“Then choose Knowledge.”
“But then I don’t have the same physical power. Makes battles much harderuntil I learn more advanced spells.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes, “You know, Babydoll, you’re making this a lotmore complicated than it actually is.”
“I know, I’m just difficult, I guess.”
He smiles at me, and kisses my cheek, “And I wouldn’t have it any otherway, you weirdo.” He leans his head on my shoulder, “Don’t worry about it somuch, though. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”
“And what if I don’t?”
He frowns, “Well then, I guess you’ll be stuck.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I reply, dryly.
He takes my chin gently in his hand and turns my face towards his,“Really, though. Be careful. You know what choice is right for you.Don’t change your mind based on what anyone else says.”
“What are you talking about, you weird kid? It’s just a game—“
“Breathe, Mandy,” he commands, cutting me off.
“What?”
“Breathe!”
“James, what are you—“
“Come on, Mandy, damnit, breathe!” Alex’s voice cut through my vision, and Ifelt a hard pounding on my chest. Gasping, I quickly sat up, coughing up waterand what felt like pebbles. Clutching my chest as I coughed, I looked up,finding myself staring into the face of a very worried looking and very wetAlex.
“Mandy!” Pete cried, throwing her arms around me in a bone crushing hug, “Ithought you were dead!”
“What…what happened?” I asked, my voice scratchy. My throat was killing me,and I kept spitting out hard little pebbles.
“You almost drowned, that’s what happened!” Alex answered, a touch ofworried anger in his voice, which made it seem higher than usual,” You slippedand fell in the lake and must have hit your head on a rock at the bottom. Whenyou didn’t come up, I jumped in, and—“
“Wait, I thought you couldn’t swim,” I interrupted him. What the heck waswith these rocks in my mouth? Did I swallow some sand as well as water?
Alex blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly, “Yeah,well…that was…kinda a lie. I just didn’t want to get wet…”
“Great, you just let me almost drown instead. Thanks.”
“Hey, I jumped in and saved you, didn’t I? Stop being such a bitch, you haveno idea how worried I was about you!”
I shook my head, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just—whatthe hell do I keep spitting up?” I looked down at the ground around me where Ihad been spitting out the small rocks I kept coughing up. Picking one up toinspect it further I found that it was sparkly and clear, almost like a...
“Is that a diamond?” Randolpho asked, inspecting one of the stones at hislittle froggy feet.
“Diamond?!” Pete exclaimed, releasing me from her grip, and grabbing thestone from my hand, “It is a diamond!” She turned back toward me, grabbing myshoulders, shaking me slightly with every word, “Mandy! You’re speaking jewels!”
“You’ve been cursed,” explained Alex, “like Randolpho.”
I sighed, “Well, at least I didn’t turn into a frog,” I looked at our newfriend, “No offense, Randolpho.”
The large frog shook his head, “It is alright, dear child, I am just happyyou are unharmed. And look!” he gestured beside him in the mud, “You haveretrieved my mistress’ ball! I am forever in your debt.” Indeed, lying in thedirt of the bank was the small golden sphere, no larger than a golf ball.
“Glad to be of service,” I answered. I turned to Alex, “So…what’s your curse,then?”
Alex blushed, “Well…uh….” He gestured down at himself. I noticed that hisblue and red shirt seemed rather…tight in the chest suddenly, and that his jawline seemed to have softened a bit. That, along with his higher pitched voice…
I stifled my sudden laughter, “You’re a girl!” I cried, pointing at him.
“Yeah, well, let’s not make a big thing of it, shall we?”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed even harder, falling over onto the bank. Alexstood, throwing his hands into the air in disgust, “Great, I save your life,and this is the thanks I get?”
“I…I’m sorry, Alex,” I apologized, hiccupping up a pearl, “I’ll stoplaughing.”
“Thank you.”
We looked at each other. I could feel the laughter rising again in mythroat.
I lasted a good three seconds before I found myself rolling again on thebank, holding my sides from the laughter cramp that was forming.
Alex rolled his eyes. It was then that we heard the splash and realized thatsometime during the last few minutes, Pete had magically disappeared.
“Pete!” we both cried. I jumped to my feet, running back to the water.
Pete was dragging herself back onto the bank, coughing. She shook herself,spraying water everywhere.
“Yuck! I hate water.” She muttered, coughing again. A large beetle fell fromher mouth. “Ewwww!” She cried, spitting out another beetle and a few tinysnakes, “What’s going on? Why am I spitting out bugs?”
“You’re cursed,” Alex answered, “You knew the water was enchanted, why wouldyou jump into it?”
“I wanted to speak in diamonds,” she explained, her eyes tearing up, “Why doI get gross stuff and she gets the sparklies?”
“The curses never repeat themselves,” Randolpho explained, “and arecompletely random. I am sorry, my dear.”
“So, so I’m going to be stuck like this forever?” she asked, tears flowingdown her cheeks and a small frog falling from her mouth.
“Of course not, Pete,” I replied, putting my arm around the small girl. Icoughed up another an emerald, “There has to be a way to cure us. Come on,let’s go into town and see if we can find an enchantress or something to lifethe curse.”
“You can call stay in the castle in the meantime,” Randolpho answered, “I amsure my mistress will be most grateful that you all took such a great risk toretrieve her ball. She is sure to reward you.”
“See?” I squeezed Pete’s shoulder a little, “we get to stay in the castle!Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“I guess,” she pouted, a spider falling from her lips.
“Think on the bright side, Pete,” I offered as we made our way back to thepath, “At least you’re not Alex. He, I mean she turned into a girl.”
“I heard that,” he protested.
“Maybe we should start calling him Alexis?” Pete chimed in, momentarilyunphased by the mouse that jumped from her mouth.
“Great. Everyone’s a comedian,” Alex moaned.
- Mood:
tired
‘Because if he was gonna do that, he would have last night while you were sleeping,’ that annoying little voice in the back of my mind informed me.
‘How do you know that?’ I asked the voice, ‘Maybe he’s trying to lure me into a false sense of security. Maybe he’s the type of slobbering, ax murdering psychopath who likes to get all comfy and personal with his victims before mincing them into bits. Maybe—“
“Maybe you should stop being so neurotic and watch where you’re going,” the voice interrupted.
I had just enough to time to wonder what the hell it was talking about before I tripped over a root sticking out of the ground and somehow managed to fall into a hole that had been dug in the middle of the road.
‘Told you,’ the voice stated, smugly.
‘Bite me,’ I cleverly replied.
“Amanda!” Alex was calling from the road above me, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I called back, standing and brushing the dirt from my skirt, “nothing hurt but my pride.” I looked up at him, surveying the situation. The hole I had found myself in was deep enough that I could just barely reach the opening with the tips of my fingers. Someone had had a lot of time on their hands.
Alex leaned over the opening, reaching one of his hands towards me. “Grab my arm,
I’ll pull you out,” he stated.
“Nope, can’t do that,” a voice informed him. A face peeked over the edge at me, revealing a girl about my age with strawberry blond hair wearing some kind of strange, pointy headband. She waved, “Hi down there!”
“Uh, hi,” I answered, hesitantly, “Um, is there a reason why my friend can’t help me out of this hole?”
“Cos you didn’t pay the toll,” the girl answered.
“Toll?”
She sighed, as if I should have known what she was talking about, “Well yeah, it’s a Toll Hole.”
“A…Toll Hole,” I echoed, slightly confused, and already a bit annoyed with this ridiculous situation.
“Yep,” she answered, sticking her arm down into the hole, palm out, “Toll please.”
“I can’t pay you a toll, I don’t have any money.”
She frowned, “No money? Well how are you supposed to get out of the hole then?”
Ok, yeah, definitely getting annoyed with this ridiculous situation.
“You could, you know, let me out?” I suggested as calmly as I could.
The girl shook her head, “Oh, no, I can’t do that.”
I sighed, “And why not?”
“Cos you haven’t paid the toll.”
I could feel the tension rising in me. In my head I pictured a little cartoon version of myself, red faced with steam coming out of my ears.
“I already told you, I can’t pay the toll, I don’t have any money. Can’t I give you,
like, an IOU or something?”
Again, she shook her head, “Sorry, but an IOU won’t buy me any rolls.”
Now I was confused, “Rolls?”
“Yeah, rolls. I need tolls to buy rolls, which is why I dig my holes.”
“Toll roll holes?”
“Exactly.”
“You lost me.”
She sighed, “Ok, so a toll is a toll, and a roll is a roll—“
“—And a hole is a hole,” Alex interjected. I gave him a glare guaranteed to melt the paint off of brick. He looked sheepish, “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” I gave him another look, and he ducked out of sight.
“—And if I don’t get any tolls I can’t buy any rolls, which is why, till you pay me, I can’t let you out of the hole,” the girl continued, unphased. Again, she stuck her arm out towards me, palm out, “Toll, please.”
I placed my head in my hands, tugging on my hair in exasperation. “Ok, you said that you need to buy rolls. Does that mean that there’s a town around here?”
The girl nodded, “Uh huh, a few miles up the road.”
“Ok. How about this, then: you let me out of this hole, and travel with us until we get to the town. Once we get there I’ll find a way to get you the money, ok?”
She looked unconvinced, “How do I know you won’t just take off without paying me?”
I thought for a minute, before an evil little idea entered my mind, “You can have Alex, there, as collateral.”
Alex popped his head back over the edge of the hole, “Hey!”
The girl gave him an appraising glance, scrunching up her nose a bit, and chewing on the side of her lips. I noticed that her teeth were a bit…pointier than usual. For a minute I thought to take back my offer, but then remembered the whole being in a hole thing I thought better of it.
“Well, he’s a bit on the skinny side, but I suppose he’s kind of cute in a stick figure kind of way. Ok, you’ve got yourself a deal,” again, the girl offered out her hand, this time to shake. I took it, thankfully, just grateful to be finished with that ridiculous conversation.
Alex looked as if he couldn’t figure out whether or not to be insulted, “Stick figure?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He looked back down at me, “Do I really look like a stick figure?”
I shook my head, “Just help me out of this thing, Slim,” I answered, reaching my arms up to him. He sighed and took a hold of my elbows, hoisting me to freedom.
Finally out of my dirt filled prison, I was able to get a better look at our new found companion. She was maybe an inch or so shorter than my 5’5”, and wore a rather pretty bright green knee length dress over lighter green leggings. Strapped to the belt on her waist were a small leather bag and a tiny, but formidable looking dagger. The strangest thing about her, however, was the fact that, what I had originally mistaken as some kind of pointy headband was actually, in fact, two fuzzy, pointy ears, like those of an orange tabby cat. Part of me felt bad, because I knew I was gawking, but I just couldn’t drag my eyes away from them. At least until I noticed the equally fuzzy orange striped tail sprouting from the back of her dress. I began to wonder if it wasn’t better back down in the hole. It was, at the very least, simpler. If only worms were better skilled at conversation.
I was so caught up in my ill-bred staring, that I hardly noticed that she had, once again held her hand out for me to shake.
“Hi!” She said, “I’m Petunia Rachel Amelia Belladonna Francisco Gomeral. But most people call me ‘Pete’.” She grinned, largely, showing, again, those strangely pointy
teeth.
I took her hand, automatically, still distracted by her cat-lie features, “Pete.” I echoed.
“Yep.”
“…You have cat ears,” I stated, unable to stop myself. I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth.
“You noticed!” She answered, completely unphased by my remark, “Come on, the town’s this way.” She started off down the road, motioning for us to follow.
I glanced at Alex, who shrugged and began to join her. I grabbed him by the arm, holding him back, “Alex. She has cat ears.” I whispered.
He gave me an amused look and patronizingly patted me on the head, “You noticed.” He answered, and then gently disengaged himself from my grasp, moving
ahead after her.
I stood there a moment, looking after them, before shaking my head in confusion,
“Cat ears,” I muttered to myself. I sighed, defeated, “Okay.” Shrugging, I shook my head one more time, as if trying to dislodge the thought from my mind before jogging after my two companions.
“Up and at ‘em, Atom Ant!” Alex’s voice broke through my thoughts.
Ok, or maybe not.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. By day, the woods took on an entirely different feel. This little clearing I had found myself in was almost pleasantly beautiful. A welcome change from the menacing, claustrophobic nightmare that it had been the night before. I took in a deep breath, smelling dried leaves and burnt out embers and…whatever it was that Alex was scooping onto a small tin plate and holding out for me.
“Breakfast!” he sing-songed, “It’s the most important meal of the day!”
I hesitantly took the plate from him, glancing nervously at its contents. It looked like it wanted to be eggs and a slab of some kind of thickly sliced meat, but, for some reason, the yolks had an odd greenish tint, as did the ham like substance. I could feel my stomach roll over in a mixture of disgust and ravishing hunger. It was an odd sensation.
I looked back up at Alex, holding the plate back out to him, “I…do not eat green eggs and ham.”
He shrugged and ignored my outstretched hand, turning back to continue to rummage through his pack by the fire, “Too bad, it’s all we have at the moment. So eat up! We have a long day a head of us.”
I poked at the ham like substance on my plate with the tip of my finger. It squeaked and started to slide its way towards the edge of the plate. I jumped back from it, tossing the entire thing to the ground. The ham lifted its front part up, turning a bit towards me where it gave me another squeak that I could have sworn was almost a “thank you”, and continued inching its way across the grass.
Fantastic. Green food tends to move on its own. Good to know. I longed for rice and marshmallows.
I heard a snap as Alex finished packing up his rucksack and turned back towards me. Noticing my now (mostly) empty plate on the ground, he smiled, “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“I…uh…no. It was…great. Thanks.” I stammered, gathering up the dish and handing it back to him. He took it from me and
washed it quickly with some water from the bucket that sat beside the smoldering remains of the fire. Alex must have made his way to a stream some time while I was asleep. My mouth seemed to dry out instantly at the sight of it. It had been over a day since I last had anything to drink. I glanced up at Alex, “Is that water safe to drink?”
He shrugged, “Should be. Why, are you—“
Before he could finish his sentence, I was dive bombing the bucket, gulping down the water as fast as my cupped hands could get it to my mouth. It was like liquid heaven, cool and sweet. I could almost feel it traveling through my system, cool beneath my skin. Finally, I couldn’t drink anymore, and I sighed, leaning back on my heels.
“That was fantastic.”
Alex chuckled, “Glad to hear you approve, Princess. Now, if your royal highness is ready, we really should be getting on our way.”
I gave him a mock glare, but stood, brushing what dirt I could off of the skirt of my dress and picking random leaves from my hair. Looking down at myself, I could see that I was a mess. My once pristine white dress was now grass stained and dirty, snagged in places from where I caught on the odd thorns I the forest. I sighed, “Think there will be a chance of getting some new clothes in this little test of yours?”
“Don’t worry, “Alex answered, “there will be no room for want where we’re going.”
I glanced at him, quizzically, but he simply hitched his pack up onto his shoulder and turned away from me, and towards the doors that sat on the other side of our camp. I took that as my cue to follow.
“So, which one first?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
We stopped in front of the third door in the circle, marked with a gold frog. Etched into the door handle was a symbol that looked like the sign for woman, except with horns. I ran my fingers over it.
“It’s the sign for Mercury,” Alex explained, somehow sensing my confusion, “each of these tests have a sort of celestial energy that rules it. This one is ruled by the planet Mercury.”
“I see,” I answered. Taking a deep breath, I tightened my hand on the knob of the door, “Well, here goes nothing.” I said, and turned the knob.
Only to find that it wouldn’t budge.
“The hell?” I muttered, jiggling it a bit. I turned towards Alex, “What gives?”
“I have to unlock it, first,” he answered, a small smirk on his lips.
“Well you could have told me that before I just went and made an idiot out of myself!”
He shrugged, “You were so into your dramatic little moment, I didn’t want to ruin it.”
I glared at him, “You know, I don’t think I like you.”
He laughed, pulling a chain out from beneath his shirt. Hanging from it was a ornately designed golden key. Twisted into the
handle was the same design as was on the doorknob. “Too bad for you, then, kiddo, cos for now, I’m all you’ve got.”
“For now?”
“You’ll meet lots of people on this journey, Amanda. Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone more suited to help you onwards,” he pulled the chain with the key from around his neck and handed it to me, “Though I highly doubt any will be as dashing as I, nor possess my rapier wit.”
“Spare me,” I snorted, taking the key from his outstretched hand. Turning back towards the door, I steeled myself, and then inserted the key into the lock. I gasped, and pulled my hand away as it suddenly became almost blistering hot. A bright gold glow seemed to spread from the key hole, running along the almost imperceptible cracks in the surface of the door until the entire thing seemed to be on fire, the frog etched into it glowing brightest of all. Then, as suddenly as it began, the glow faded, leaving an imprint of it behind my eyes.
“Well, that was…dramatic,” I stated. I hesitantly reached back towards the handle, touching it lightly at first to see if it was still hot, and then grasping it fully. This time it turned easily in my hand. The door sung open, silently, to reveal a well kept country road. I looked back at Alex.
“After you,” he said, motioning for me to go forward. I nodded and stepped over the threshold, the door closing behind us with a soft, but permanent sounding “click”. Turning back towards the door I noticed that, from this side, there was no handle, just a plain white space in the middle of the road.
“Well, guess there’s no going back, now, is there?” I asked, rather rhetorically.
Alex shrugged, “Shall we?”
I nodded, letting out a breath, and took the first step towards my first challenge.
(To be revised and continued)
Finally, after what felt like ages, the path widened into a large clearing. The trees formed a tight circle around the area, cutting it off from the rest of the woods. Situated evenly within the trees were seven white, wooden doors, each with an animal etched onto it, painted over with an almost metallic colour. In the middle of the clearing was a large bonfire, its flames throwing hypnotizing shadows against the lacquer of the doors, making the symbols seem to glow. In what almost felt like a trance, I approached the closest door—one that was painted with a shining green dog. Etched into the doorknob was a crescent moon. Almost as if I were being pulled by strings, I watched my arm reach for the knob.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice stated from the darkness behind me, startling me out of my trance. I spun towards the sound, my heart banging in my throat to face a tall, almost impossibly thin figure, his face bathed in shadows.
“Who,” I winced at the way my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and stood a little straighter, feigning courage that I definitely did not feel at the moment, “Who are you?”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” was all the man answered.
I could feel an almost nauseating sensation of disorientation, as if, for a moment, I was being pulled in two directions at once. I could feel the ground sway beneath my feet and suddenly I was falling…
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, jumping up from the front steps of our porch, childish excitement in his eyes and voice. I laugh at his enthusiasm as I move around my car and up the walk, adjusting the messenger bag I use in lieu of a purse on my shoulder. He meets me half way and I throw my arms around him, kissing him lightly on the lips.
“So I see, you loser,” I reply, ruffling his hair a bit in that way that I know annoys the hell out of him. I grin as he frowns a bit, automatically reaching up to fix it back the way it was (though it always looks the same to me either way), before grabbing my hand and pulling me up the porch stairs towards the front door. “James!” I laugh, trying to keep up, “What’s the big hurry?”
“I got you a surprise! You gotta see! Come on!” He stops halfway through the front door, causing me to bump into his back, and then quickly turns to face me as I raise my eyebrow in question. His grin grows even larger as he covers my eyes with his hand. “No peeking.” He orders.
I sigh and decide to indulge him, “Okay, no peeking.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Swear?”
“I swear.”
“Pinky swear?”
“James!” I exclaim, exasperated. I can hear him laughing somewhere beyond my closed eyelids and I feel his hand moved away from my face.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he answers, “come on!”
Again, he grabs my arm and I allow myself to be pulled into the apartment. I count my steps as I go, trying to judge where I am in the apartment as he leads me through three right turns and a couple spinny circles that I know he’s using just to disorient me further. Finally, he stops and lets go of my arm, moving behind me. I hear a light clicking sound and then he gently takes my shoulders and moves me into what I can blindly gage as the center of a room. I feel his fingers of the sensitive skin of my face as he gently pushes upwards on my chin, tilting my head towards the ceiling. His breath tickles the minute hairs in my ear, sending a shiver throughout my body, as his voice whispers, “Open your eyes.”
I obey him automatically and my eyes are filled with stars. On almost every inch of the surface of our bedroom are little plastic glow in the dark stars, some shining with constellations that I recognize, showing the amount of tedious effort he had taken into recreating the night sky. I know that my mouth is hanging agape with surprise, making me look like an ass, but there’s nothing else that I can do. I try to form words, but nothing comes and I just stand and stare as James softly chuckles behind me.
“Do you like it?” he asks, still whispering in my ear.
All I can do is nod, dumbly. We lapse back into silence for a moment, and in the back of my mind I register being able to feel his heartbeat against my back and his breath in my ear, but I’m numb to it all, being only aware of the stars as they seem to wink at me from my ceiling, illuminated in the soft glow of the black light that James must have switched on when we entered the room.
Finally, after what feels like ages, my mouth finds the ability to form words and all I can ask is, “Why?”
“You were so sad when we moved out here to the city that all of the lights make it hard to see the sky. I figured that if you couldn’t find your way to the stars, I would bring the stars to you,” he explains. His arms are around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder, “Do you like it?” he asks again, as if needing to hear the words tumble form my lips.
“Yes,” I breath. I gently pull myself from his embrace and turn to face him. “Yes. I love it, James, thank you.”
He smiles, again, looking pleased with himself before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine as we kiss beneath our own personal night sky. He pulls away, then, the look on his face changing from elated happiness to one of concern, “Amanda?”
“Amanda?”
A voice broke through the haziness of my thoughts as I forced my eyes open, literally shaking the…whatever that had just been…from my mind. I found myself lying on my back staring up at a face hidden by shadows. A bonfire crackled a few yards away and I could smell burning leaves. I sat up quickly, instinctually moving away from the man before me.
“Whoa there, Amanda,” the man began, his voice soft and rather soothing, with a slight accent that sounded a bit British. He held his hands up, palms out, in the universal gesture of peace, “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Alex. I’m a friend.”
“How do you know my name?” I asked, even as I said the words being amazed that I found it odd this stranger knew my name, but perfectly normal that I had just spent the past week locked in a white room with magic cleaning elves that somehow opened into a lush fairytale forest. My slight voice of reason had picked a fine time to pop her head in.
The man sighed a bit, “It…it’s a long story. Maybe it’s best I explain a bit closer to the fire?” He gestured towards the blaze with his head, still not moving his arms from their pose of good will. I huffed a bit, but nodded, both of us slowly rising at the same time, neither of us looking away from the other. We made our way towards the fire, sitting along side it and only then did he place his hands back down by his side. I leaned in towards the flame, relishing the feel of it on my skin. I hadn’t really noticed how cold it was out, and the moisture from the ground had seeped into the thin fabric of my dress, making it cling uncomfortably. I rubbed my bare arms, trying to get feeling back into them as I examined my new found companion.
In the light of the fire I could see that he was maybe a year or so older than I, with unkempt, shaggy hair in that nothing coloured shade that only appears on people who were blond as children. His face seemed as unnaturally thin as the rest of him, but not as gaunt as I would have originally thought. He wore a blue and red button up shirt with a light pattern of stars upon it. There was something familiar about the way he smiled at me gently, in a way that I could tell was trying to be reassuring, the beginnings of laugh lines appearing beside his eyes.
“So,” he began, letting out a large breath.
“So,” I echoed, adjusting myself so that I wasn’t sitting directly on the rather large rock that had somehow made its way to under my bum.
“Are you hungry?” Alex asked, suddenly turning towards the fire where I could see that a spit had been set across it, a small animal roasting across the flames. It wasn’t one that I found easily recognizable.
“Um…no thanks,” I answered, ignoring the protesting of my belly, which had gotten rather excited about the idea of food, “I’d much rather know what’s going on here. Who are you? How do you know my name? Where the hell am I?”
The man sighed, his mouth tightening into a lipless line, “That’s….not so easily explained.”
“Humor me.”
“Ok,” he turned to completely face me, crossing his long, spidery legs and resting his hands on his knees, “I’ll go one by one. My name is Alex. I already told you that. I know your name because I was sent here to find you.”
“Sent here? By who?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“What the hell do you mean you can’t tell me that? I think that if someone knows that I’m here or where the hell ‘here’ even is, I deserve to know!” I shouted, pounding one of my fists into the ground beside me, only to have it land on that sneaky little rock. I gasped and instinctually drew my hand back towards me, shaking it out a little to try and ease the pain.
“You alright?” Alex asked. I glared at him in response.
“At least tell me where I am,” I demanded, sucking on the side of my injured hand.
Alex shook his head, “Amanda, I want to answer these questions for you, I really do, but the thing is that….well, you’re somewhere that you…really shouldn’t be, right now.”
“No, you think?”
“No, you don’t understand. You’re in a very dangerous place, and the only person who can get you out of here is yourself. I was sent to find you and help guild your way, but…this is something you have to do on your own, and that includes finding the answers to your questions.” He shrugged, helplessly.
“Can you at least explain what I’m supposed to be doing here? I can’t very well find my way out of this situation without any sort of information whatsoever can I?”
He frowned a bit, but nodded, “Ok, well, you see those doors over there?” He gestured towards them with his head. I nodded, “Beyond each door lies a sort of test. Each test is its own little world, completely cut off from the rest of this place. Within each of these worlds you’ll find both answers to your questions and the key to the next door and the next part of your journey. You must get past each of these tests in order to go home—“
“So you’re saying all I have to do is go in each of these doors, find some key, and then I get out of here? Well, what’s the hold up, then, lets—“
“You don’t understand,” Alex interrupted, “it’s not that simple. These worlds, these…tests, are set up so that you’re destined to fail. The information that you’re going to find isn’t….it’s going to hurt, Amanda. This isn’t a pleasant situation you’ve found yourself in. This isn’t going to be all sunshine and butterflies, kid.”
We stared at each other a moment in silence, as I digested what he had just said, “What if I don’t go through with it, then? What if I don’t go through the doors?”
He shrugged, “Then you’ll be here, forever. Or at least until—“ he stopped, and cleared his throat, looking away.
“Until what?” I asked.
Alex suddenly found the stick he was using to stir the fire incredibly interesting, as he never raised his gaze from it.
“Alex,” I pressed, “Until what?”
“Until you fade from this place,” he told the fire.
“What—“
“Just…do the tests, Amanda, ok?” he asked, addressing me, but still speaking to the flames, “It’s going to be hard, and it’s going to be painful, but that’s what I’m here for. I’m going to help you as much as I can. Okay?”
I couldn’t answer for a moment, my voice seeming to be caught. I cleared my throat before responding, “Okay. I…okay.”
Alex gave me a little smile, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes before turning back to the fire, “You should get some sleep, kiddo. There’s no use in getting started, now, it’s way too late for that. We’ll start fresh in the morning.”
I looked at him a few moments longer, the way the shadows danced across his face from the fire, before nodding, and lying down on the soft grass, my arms crossed beneath my head. I could see the constellation Orion winking at me from the sky, which caused me to suddenly remember the little dream I had when I had passed out.
“Alex?” I called out to the night.
“Hmm?”
“When I fainted…I had this…vision or something. There was a boy in it, named James. Who is he?”
I could hear Alex moving in the darkness, and, turning my head to face him, I could see him shifting uncomfortably, “He’s…just…don’t worry about that now, okay?”
I frowned, but sighed, defeated, “Alright. I just…” I sighed, again, realizing that it was no use trying to prolong the conversation, “Goodnight, Alex.”
“Goodnight, Amanda,” his voice answered.
I allowed myself, for the first time in what felt like ages, to relax, listening to the soft crackle of the fire, allowing it to lure me to sleep.
(To be revised and continued)
The room was scarcely decorated, holding only a small twin bed (white), and an end table (also white). On the table was a tray of white food—mashed potatoes and marshmallows, cauliflower and rice. There was a large bottle of water, and a white vase holding a white daisy. There were no windows and one door, dead bolted and chained seven times with seven locks, all of them stuck fast, even though they were all bolted from my side.
I felt like I would go blind from all the white. There were times I was convinced that I had.
The first day, I screamed until my throat was raw. I banged on the door, I pulled at the latches. I toppled the table, threw the tray of food at the walls. I tried to push over the bed, but found it too heavy. I kicked it, instead, almost breaking my toe in the process since whomever decided to provide me with the useless dress had failed at giving me shoes. I made as much noise as I possibly could, praying, hoping, begging for someone to hear me and find me and tell me what the hell was going on and where I was and how I had gotten here and oh god, I just wanted to go home.
If only I could remember where home was. But I would worry about that, later.
The second day I decided to take a more reasonable approach. Though I had heard nothing during my fitful sleep, sometime in the night someone had straightened up the room, replacing the end table and tray of food (this time the spread included white bread (the crust cut off), sliced turkey, and more marshmallows), and painting over the marks and dents I had made in the walls and door, pretty much cementing my previous idea that the dirt in the room had merely been painted over, not removed, though that still didn’t explain the disturbing disinfectant smell.
I spent the day canvassing every inch of the room, approaching the situation like one of those silly time wasting flash games I used to torture my brain with while procrastinating from doing my homework at three in the morning. “You’re trapped in a room with no windows and one door. Do what you can to get out” the instructions would read. The difference between the games and the real world, however, was that, in the games, there was always some hidden puzzle, or clue, or key that would help you solve the mystery and leave the room. In my white little world, however, I found only a few scattered dust bunnies the cleaning fairies must have forgotten, and half of a broken paperclip which I promptly snapped and lost within the key hole below the door handle on my first attempt at picking it. Whoops.
The third day I spent in bed, the white, down covers pulled up over my head. I heard voices in my dreams, snippets of sound and conversation, though I couldn’t make out any of the words.
The fourth day I was famished. Up until then I had been dutifully ignoring the ever present, ever changing tray of food that lay on the bedside table, determined that it had to be drugged or poisoned or some combination thereof. However, my body was reminding me, rather loudly, that it needed food, and who was I to argue with rather noisy internal organs? Again, the food, like everything else in the room, was white, and, though it was slightly cold, it was magically delicious.
The fifth day I scratched dirty limericks into the walls with the remaining piece of broken paper clip. They were gone in the morning.
The sixth day I managed to break a leg off of the bedside table and wandered the room in haphazard circles, banging it against the walls and door as hard as I could, singing every rude, disgusting song I had ever learned at camp. When I ran out of songs I switched to “The Song That Doesn’t End” from that old Lambchop show, hoping to annoy my captors into letting me out. I ended up with nothing but a headache and an assortment of splinters for my trouble.
The seventh day I awoke to colour. Sitting in the middle of the tray on the bedside table was a brilliantly red apple, almost glowing amongst the stale, sterile white. It almost hurt to look at it, my eyes forgetting what it was like to process colour after so much white. My first instinct was that it was some kind of trap. It was too perfect, too beautiful, too tempting. I spent the better part of the day sitting with my back turned to it, trying to ignore its presence, which, somehow, caused me to think of it even more, its visage hovering behind my eyes every time I closed them. The image of it was burned into my retinas, the idea of it burned into my mind and, almost before I knew what was happening it was in my hands and I was taking a bite, relishing the sweet yet tart taste and then everything went dark.
Damnit. I knew it was a trap.
When I awoke on the eighth day, I could hear birds. I sat up from my position on the floor where I had fallen the night before (the cleaning fairies must have taken the night off because the apple, now slightly brown where I had bitten it, still lay on the floor beside me) to face an open door, and beyond it, lush green forest. Sitting beside door way was a pair of soft white ballet slippers, which were, like the dress, completely useless in a practical sense, but beautifully crafted and better than going barefoot so I slipped them on, and, taking a deep breath and a final glance at the vacuum that had been both my prison and home for the last week, I stepped out of the doorway and into the woods beyond. Somewhere behind me the door shut. I could hear the seven locks click back into place. For a moment, I was frightened. I wanted to rush back into that white room, hide under that white bed, but that path was closed to me, now. Now I could only go forward.
And so I did.
(To be revised and continued)
