me, and I couldn’t pull off whatever vague plan I’d devised that would help me save Chad without some help. Or maybe he was at home eating dinner with mom and dad laughing about how he’d tricked me into leaving the city. I rarely ventured out of my routine, but I was already acting inconsistently and I was sick of resenting the world. George, at least, had two more eyes to help me search.
I knew George was okay when we saw monkeys dancing across these ropes that hung between the carved trees that lined the road. George pointed— “he’s their king” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve met him before.”
“Oh?”
“And he’s got the best dance moves.” George did some sort of off balance jig and spin.
“Where do you think they’re going?”
“Some nice place.”
“How do you suppose that?”
“Hope,” he replied while tossing up apples to our merry monkey companions.
We got to the zone easily.
We overheard the Guardsmen.
“The walkies aren’t working again, Sir. I sent Stephan to Ghiloni and Sebastien to Charter Oak.”
The one in charge had a large gun and a small one at his hip. The one who spoke looked as if he hadn’t slept and held his gun like it might try to escape. All of them held their guns that way, with trepidation like they spent sleepless nights surrounded in the dark by the roars of monsters they never saw. Something made the air dense. We observed them for an hour and could tell they were scrambling all over the place. They sent runners to relay messages. I could tell they were afraid. There was a distinct border, a threshold, as distinct as walking through a waterfall except it was not something you could see. It was a feeling, in the air, molecularly, that was obtrusive. An unavoidable shutter was forced from our bodies when we passed through it. The troops never touched it, out of a fear that was
right
. Once the jarring transition was over we were in the past; the future of some childish hopes; an alternate reality where the world had colors and time was visible, but meant nothing. The sky was peculiar, it hued blue and everything was orchidaceous. I felt like Elanor without the picket fence, 38 and the whole place looked oddly like The Pool at Medfield 39 except it had a blight long derelict. Almost none of it was brown.
Covering the ground were tiny green spikes that smelled like those chemical packs we used to get to make a room smell better, yet they were soft and exuberant. Under the sunny blue sky the world looked alien. Trees, they’re called, but I had never seen one in person before; they seemed alive almost willing to speak. I wished the world was covered in that soft green so that I could curl up and take a nap and sleep forever becoming something that belonged and was a part of this world.
Throughout the verdure was Chad’s mystery, a million clumps and clusters of metal all broken long ago; some big and some small. In the distance I could see large chamber sized discards of some neglected construct.
It was easy to tell the time by the light of the vault. The bright blueness of the sky developed a gradient leading to black; a strong night with another new sight: stars. I had seen the likeness of stars before, but no painting could contend with the magnificence of that milky scar. I could hardly believe it. It was like a dream, the colors and shapes from every iris I’d ever seen. In the city I could look out and up barely catching a sense of what might be there, a single dull twinkle in the northern sky. An unearthly power, those stars in the livid night sky, beyond wonder into sheer magic. It seemed unreal. I fell over as I strained my neck back as far as possible, then farther.
I felt small. Is the out—there the same as here? Could people go there? Are people up there now, disconnected from us? Is such a stupendous sight above me at all times and only now I have been made aware? How could anything I do matter with all that above me?
I wanted
I knew George was okay when we saw monkeys dancing across these ropes that hung between the carved trees that lined the road. George pointed— “he’s their king” he said.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve met him before.”
“Oh?”
“And he’s got the best dance moves.” George did some sort of off balance jig and spin.
“Where do you think they’re going?”
“Some nice place.”
“How do you suppose that?”
“Hope,” he replied while tossing up apples to our merry monkey companions.
We got to the zone easily.
We overheard the Guardsmen.
“The walkies aren’t working again, Sir. I sent Stephan to Ghiloni and Sebastien to Charter Oak.”
The one in charge had a large gun and a small one at his hip. The one who spoke looked as if he hadn’t slept and held his gun like it might try to escape. All of them held their guns that way, with trepidation like they spent sleepless nights surrounded in the dark by the roars of monsters they never saw. Something made the air dense. We observed them for an hour and could tell they were scrambling all over the place. They sent runners to relay messages. I could tell they were afraid. There was a distinct border, a threshold, as distinct as walking through a waterfall except it was not something you could see. It was a feeling, in the air, molecularly, that was obtrusive. An unavoidable shutter was forced from our bodies when we passed through it. The troops never touched it, out of a fear that was
right
. Once the jarring transition was over we were in the past; the future of some childish hopes; an alternate reality where the world had colors and time was visible, but meant nothing. The sky was peculiar, it hued blue and everything was orchidaceous. I felt like Elanor without the picket fence, 38 and the whole place looked oddly like The Pool at Medfield 39 except it had a blight long derelict. Almost none of it was brown.
Covering the ground were tiny green spikes that smelled like those chemical packs we used to get to make a room smell better, yet they were soft and exuberant. Under the sunny blue sky the world looked alien. Trees, they’re called, but I had never seen one in person before; they seemed alive almost willing to speak. I wished the world was covered in that soft green so that I could curl up and take a nap and sleep forever becoming something that belonged and was a part of this world.
Throughout the verdure was Chad’s mystery, a million clumps and clusters of metal all broken long ago; some big and some small. In the distance I could see large chamber sized discards of some neglected construct.
It was easy to tell the time by the light of the vault. The bright blueness of the sky developed a gradient leading to black; a strong night with another new sight: stars. I had seen the likeness of stars before, but no painting could contend with the magnificence of that milky scar. I could hardly believe it. It was like a dream, the colors and shapes from every iris I’d ever seen. In the city I could look out and up barely catching a sense of what might be there, a single dull twinkle in the northern sky. An unearthly power, those stars in the livid night sky, beyond wonder into sheer magic. It seemed unreal. I fell over as I strained my neck back as far as possible, then farther.
I felt small. Is the out—there the same as here? Could people go there? Are people up there now, disconnected from us? Is such a stupendous sight above me at all times and only now I have been made aware? How could anything I do matter with all that above me?
I wanted
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