342

At night when her characters kept her awake.

341

Sometimes she found the happiest, most upbeat music and plugged in her headphones, turned the volume up.

Sometimes even that wasn't enough to lift her spirits.

Flamed and earthy light

Hope walked along the candlelit path. Her bare feet felt the alternating sensations of cold dew on the cobblestones and licking heat from the flames. She walked slowly, heel to toe, heel to toe, her toes curling against the stones. Her white gown brushed around her ankles and she hunched her shoulders against the chilled breeze.

She took a deep breath and walked down a few steps. She sat down and looked far out over the water. There was a green light she could see on someone’s dock at the opposite side of the lake. She didn’t know who lived over there, but that light shone every night.

340

When you say "That guy is being a tool," you refer to certain qualities, but do we have a corresponding name for females?

339

Sometimes I wish I could push people away the way you seem to do.

338

When the free are imprisoned and the prisoners set free.

337

She heard shapes in the music built by lines meeting at corners or sliding into curves.

Conflict of interest

"Tell me again. Explain to me what happened." Charlotte sat with her arms crossed over her chest and one leg crossed over the other. She stared at Casey not in an angry way, but with a concentrated effort of control. This was Charlotte's go-to posture when she felt frustrated.

Casey paced back and forth across the room. "He told me not to do it. Said I should leave him alone." She turned and shrugged. "I don't know, Charlotte. What should I have done?"

"Healed his leg."

"He told me to get away from him."

"He's hurt."

"Yeah." Casey sighed. "It's not fatal. Luke will be fine. It's just that he's a Traveler, and with a hurt leg...he should have let me help him."

Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair and stood up. "I don't get it. Why didn't he want you to?"

Casey stopped pacing and turned to face Charlotte. "Oh, you know why. He doesn't want to be Aware. He needs those brief breaks, even if he doesn't realize that he's taking a break."

"No." Charlotte shook her head. "There's gotta be more than that." Now she started pacing the room. "I haven't talked to him in a while...over there...but I know him. Luke would be okay with knowing. He'd want to help, even over there."

"Well, he's your friend. Maybe you should go talk to him."

Charlotte scowled. "I wouldn't say we're friends."

"You grew up in the same neighborhood. Fine. Whatever." Casey pulled on her coat. "All I'm saying is, maybe he'll listen to you." She pulled her straight golden hair over the collar.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"He's staying downtown at the shelter. Needs to rest more while his leg is hurt."

"Okay."

"So are you going to go see him?"

Charlotte nodded. "I don't know that I can change his mind, but I'll talk to him."

"Good. If you need me, I'll be in the west end. Just send a message over."

"Thanks."

Casey left and Charlotte put on her coat. She pulled the zipper up all the way to her chin and tugged the hood over her head. She walked out into the street and plunged her hands into her pockets as freezing wind whipped about her.

Her stride was purposeful, one footstep firmly followed another. She stared straight ahead as she walked--not that many people were outside anyway.

The crossing over business annoyed Charlotte, probably because most everyone else had a choice. Since Charlotte could remember her dreams, she saw glimpses of this world. She never had a choice: she knew of one ordinary world and another world bursting with monsters. And she knew that soon the worlds would collide and blend together. Monsters here, monsters over there.

Luke thought he could find a way to stop it. That's why he joined the Travelers. He traveled the Earth looking for a way to keep the worlds separate. His personal mission. Luke spoke with wise men, old women, and young children. He listened to advice from the wealthy and memorized the proverbs of the poor. He has walked on every major land mass and found nothing. And now he was in a shelter resting a broken leg, refusing to let his counterpart know the whole story of what was going on. Luke had a good heart, but he was stubborn.

Charlotte tensed her shoulders against the cold. She pulled open the door to the shelter and stepped inside. She glanced around the room and her eyes settled on a young man in the corner with his foot propped up on a chair. Charlotte walked around the huddles of people over to Luke.

They were the same age, but their work made both of them look older. Charlotte had dark circles under her eyes from restless nights. Her face was often tense and slow to smile. Luke's dark brown beard matched his messy hair, and the beard made him look at least five years older. Clean shaven, he probably looked 15.

In the other world, Charlotte and Luke are graduating from high school this year. But on this side, their efforts to stay alive and do something to help humanity has taken a physical toll, and Charlotte knew they all suffered spiritually as well.

"Hi Luke." Charlotte pulled up a chair and sat across from Luke.

He glanced up from his notebook where he was scribbling notes. "Charlotte. Hey." Luke closed the notebook and sat up in his chair. He cleared his throat. "What brings you here?"

Charlotte looked at his propped-up leg. "What happened to your leg?"

"Accident. Bad fall when I coming back to the city."

Charlotte lightly tapped the cast. "Will you be wearing this for a while?"

Luke nodded. "The doctor said it'll be a few weeks."

"And you're okay with that?"

Luke shrugged. "Sure, what am I supposed to do?"

Charlotte looked around and then whispered. "I know Casey offered to help you."

"Ugh." Luke lipped his lips and responded, "I thought maybe she'd send you here."

Charlotte leaned back in her chair. "She didn't specifically send me, okay? But I don't get it. She could have you up and walking a few minutes. Why wait around with a cast on your leg?"

"The alternative is revealing everything to my counterpart. I don't want him to know about the nightmare over here."

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest and crossed one leg over the other. "You know he probably has nightmares about it anyway. Might as well let him in on the whole thing."

Luke shook his head. "No. Let him have a normal life while he still can."

"The earlier he has this information, the better he'll be prepared for the Merge. You want to give him the best chance over there, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do." Luke shook his head. "Look, I'm stuck either way. I'm afraid if he knows, he'll look for a way to stop what's going to happen. That's exactly what I did, and we're exactly the same person. But he can't just get up and look for a solution over there."

"And there's something else?"

Luke looked at Charlotte and nodded. "I don't want him to go looking when I know he won't find anything. I did all that work. I haven't found a single thing that could help us."

"Fair enough. But he's going to find out at some point."

"Then he'll find out when he's supposed to find out."

Charlotte took a deep breath. "I fear I'm going to be the one to tell him."

Luke jerked his head in surprise. "What?"

Charlotte shrugged, a look of confusion on her face. "Those words just came out, I'm sorry."

"Automatically."

Charlotte nodded.

"A prophecy. I thought they didn't come over you like that anymore."

"I don't know, I guess they do. Not like we have guides for how this works."

"Well." Luke opened up his notebook and sighed. "I guess we have our answer then. Casey isn't supposed to help me."

"Fine." Charlotte stood up. "I guess we're done. I knew I wasn't going to change your mind."

"That's why you're a Prophet."

Luke grinned at her.

"Yes, well. I'll leave you alone then." Charlotte took a step to walk away and then turned back to Luke. "Hey, if you need anything, I'll be in town, okay? You know how to reach me."

"Thank you, Charlotte."

"Take care, Luke."

Charlotte left the shelter to enter the icy winter air again. That was it, then. Casey wasn't meant to heal Luke. The other world's Luke would would stay in the dark--or the light, rather--for a little longer.

336

Sometimes she bled on paper. Sometimes she could control when.

335

Days when she had to remember how to walk.

334

She felt like starting a war, so she watched war films instead.

333

The problem is, I have so much I'd like to share with you and we haven't spoken in years.

332

A faded red leash lay in the road, tattered and striped with black tire marks.

331

Some days she felt like she was in the wrong place, but she didn't know where she should be instead.

330

What the older generation did not understand: merit doesn't count for much in a failing economy. Working hard doesn't mean you get to keep working.

329

Anger surged through her body, boiling her blood, unchecked.

On abandoning books

I’m reading Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. I picked it up at a used book sale because the title sounded familiar in the sense that I had heard good things about this book. (Don’t ask me when or from whom I heard these good reviews...something in my mind said, “Go for it. Get the book.” For two dollars, I had nothing to lose.) I’m about half way through it, and I love bits of the story, but I wonder if I want to finish the book.

The structure is really interesting, that’s one thing that keeps me reading. The author is himself in the story (or maybe a character of himself, I’m not sure) who goes to Ukraine to find his ancestors’ home village and thank the woman who helped his distant relatives escape the Nazis. Jonathan (the author) meets up with an interpreter/translator named Alex. Some of the chapters are Jonathan recounting parts of his relatives’ lives in Ukraine, passages of his family history. Other chapters are Alex’s translations into (broken/awkward) English about the trip he and Jonathan take to research the family, and the rest are letters that Alex writes to Jonathan about the progress of the book they’re working on together (aka the book I’m reading). The story is about writing the book, which reminds me of One Thousand Years of Solitude and that’s all well and good.

Jonathan’s writing is beautiful and touching at times, and it’s fun to read Alex’s translations...his word usage isn’t correct all the time but I still understand everything he’s saying. But I’m bored with the characters.

My favorite character in the book so far is Jonathan’s great-great-great-(great?)-grandfather, Yankel. But Yankel died (of old age, nothing surprising) and now I’m left with this handful of characters I mostly don’t care about and find interesting only some of the time.

And my question is, am I wasting my time if I read the rest of the story?

The thing about school and college was, we had to read novels through to the end (or Sparknote them, whatever. I felt bad shrugging off the work so I always read the novel). I had a reason, a necessity to read books through to the end, even if I didn’t like them. I don’t have to do that anymore. If I’m reading for myself, should I force myself to keep reading a story I don’t like?

With movies, I have a rule. If I’m watching a movie and I don’t like it after twenty minutes, it’s okay to turn it off. I give the film it’s fair chance and if it’s not something I want to watch, I don’t have to waste time watching the rest of it. Move on and it’s fine. I don’t have a rule like that with books that I stick to. I’ve said I’ll give a book one hundred pages to interest me. I think that’s fair. I was reading Dune by Frank Herbert, and that’s what I did, put it away after one hundred pages. I liked the story but it was going so slowly. I trudged through the first hundred or so pages and I didn’t feel like forcing myself to read hundreds more. I feel bad because it’s supposedly one of the greatest science fiction novels ever, but I was falling asleep in the middle of chapters, the way I used to fall asleep reading history textbooks. I don’t see the point in doing that if I don’t have to.

And then there’s C.S. Lewis. In Mere Christianity, he says, “It is a very silly idea that in reading a book you must never ‘skip.’ All sensible people skip freely when they come to a chapter which they find is going to be of no use to them.” (Yes, I bothered looking up the quote.) I understand what he means if he’s talking about non-fiction. If I’m reading a book about ancient Egyptians, I can skip the chapter on government structure if I’m interested in religious rituals. But I don’t see how I can skip around the same way in novels. Surely I’d miss things in the story that would relate to later chapters that I would be reading. I might skim over passages or skip halfway down a page. But whole chapters? I don’t see how I could do that and still know what’s happening in the story.

So then I’m stuck. Do I keep reading Everything Is Illuminated? The other difficulty is, I have a stack of books on my shelf, waiting to be read. I’m interested in some of those more than what I’m reading now, but I don’t like reading more than one book at a time. Invariably, I ignore the book I like less and it’s like I’m reading one book at a time anyway. I guess I will keep reading and hope that the second half is better than the first half. Maybe I’ll skip a passage here and there.

It’s times like these when I wish I had special alien powers like Allen Strange. (I wonder who else remembers that show.) He could flip through a book once and read it that fast, as he was flipping the pages. I could get through a hundred pages in a few seconds and be done with this book. It’s not about reading, it’s about time.

In another sense of abandoning books...I’ve been considering getting an e-book reader. I like the convenience of having access to so many books without needing the physical space to keep them. I like that on the Kindle you can borrow e-books from public libraries. But like I said, I have a stack of printed books that will keep me busy for a while. I don’t spend that much time reading and I do live close to the library, so having access to a lot of books isn’t an issue for me.And then there’s the Printed Word Pledge. I haven’t officially signed my name to it, but I do feel bad about making the switch to digital books, even if my reading habit would really be a hybrid of physical and digital books. I’m talking around in circles again, it happens.

Crossing over

Charlotte hadn’t spoken to Luke in five years, but there she was at his door. “Luke, we have to go. Now.”

Luke shook his head. “What do you mean? Where do you want to go?”

Charlotte stared at him. Luke could never read her facial expressions. She wore a blank stare most of the time, but something about her hinted at her mind working, always reeling.

“Luke, the monsters are coming.” She reached forward and grabbed his hand. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but you have to trust me.”

Then Charlotte looked at Luke, her brilliant eyes clear, and somehow he knew she meant what she said. He knew it was true. Do you know how sometimes you listen to a person, you agree with her automatically? Not because you know what she’s talking about but because somehow, you know the person is absolutely right. Luke didn’t know what monsters Charlotte was talking about, but he believed her. He grabbed his cell phone and wallet and stuffed them into his jacket pockets. He followed her out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. “Charlotte, what’s going on?” Luke asked. He pressed the down button on the elevator.

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s difficult to explain. Let’s get somewhere safe first.”

They went down to the street and Charlotte led Luke around the corner. They kept walking, out past the school, past the movie theater. The streets were full of rush-hour traffic and the sidewalks were crowded. They walked through Stevens Park and out to the old business sector beyond the park.

Luke looked up at the rusted fence and down to the twisted weeds where metal met pavement. The gate was unlocked and Charlotte led him into the compound.

“Charlotte--”

“Shhh.”

They walked to one of the abandoned buildings. The side door’s lock was busted and they walked inside. Charlotte pulled a flashlight out of her backpack and led the way down the stairs. Luke expected the cellar to be cold and maybe a little damp, but it felt comfortable instead. Lived in. Charlotte picked up a lighter on the table and lit the standing candles. A dim glow spread through the room. One side of the room had blankets down on the floor and some spare clothes piled on a chair. The walls were covered in paper, photos, and newspaper articles. Luke stared and squinted his eyes, trying to figure out what this place was.

“Charlotte, why did we come here?”

“We needed to get away from the city.” She moved two wooden chairs to the table and then motioned for Luke to sit down. “Away from all those people.” Charlotte sat down and pulled her legs up onto the chair seat, hugging her knees. “Remember, I said the monsters are coming. They come from here.” She tapped her forehead. “They’re going to come out and the ones who have to fight will be off guard. At least here, we put some space between us.”

Luke shook his head. He wanted to think that Charlotte was crazy, that this was one of the unhinged states she had as a child. But she sounded so level-headed. He played along. “What if a monster comes out of me?”

“I’d have to fight.” Charlotte’s eyes flicked to the corner behind Luke. “But I don’t think there are any monsters in you.”

Luke twisted around in his chair to see the corner where Charlotte was looking. The candle flames sent flickering shadows against the far wall, but he could make out a baseball bat, a crowbar, and something metal that glinted even in the dim light. “...Is that a gun on the floor?”

Charlotte’s voice was flat. “Like I said, we don’t need to worry about you.”

“Okay.” Luke took a deep breath, the heavy scent of candle wax filing his nostrils. “So why are these monsters coming now?”

Charlotte stood up and walked over to the newspaper-covered wall. “It’s time. I...I don’t know how to explain this to you. It’s the kind of thing that you know only if you know. Otherwise, you have no idea what’s going on.”

Luke stood up and walked over to Charlotte. “And how do you know?”

Charlotte tapped the side of her head. “Monsters in some of their heads, but there’s something different inside of me. Not just me. There are others.” She looked sideways at Luke. “There’s a world some of us enter when we sleep. It mirrors this one, but time moves differently there. Faster. It’s ahead of this world, and now’s the time when the monsters come out here.”

Luke rubbed a hand over his eyes. “You know this sounds crazy, right? I don’t mean to be rude, but Charlotte, come on.”

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. “Lots of people feel that something is wrong.” She pointed at the wall. “Political protests. Social movements.” Her fingers moved over the articles and photos, tapping each one. “Economic suffering. Cities are in a state of unrest. Something is shifting, moving. Rising.” She turned and looked at Luke. “Don’t you feel like something’s off in the world? That some sort of change is coming?”

“I don’t know Charlotte. Is this change supposed to happen tonight? I guess I don’t understand how something like this can happen and everything will be different tomorrow.”

“It isn’t sudden. Things have been progressing. We’ve been building up to this point.”

“If you say so.” Luke walked back to the chair and Charlotte sat back down too. “So why did you come get me?”

Charlotte lifted her eyes to meet Luke’s. “It’s something that I did not expect. I didn’t think I would have anyone with me to face the Rising, but then I saw you.”

“In the other world?”

Charlotte nodded. “You would say I had a dream about it, but that’s not it. We were traveling together, so I knew I had to find you in this world. I had to come back for you.”

“Not so much a dream as a vision.”

“What?”

“If the other world moves ahead of ours, then what happens there will be the future here, right? So you can see the future.”

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s no that straight-forward, but I see what you mean. Yes, that’s why I went to the apartment for you. But that won’t work anymore. When the monsters cross into our world, the timelines will be linked. Fixed together.”

“How much time do we have?”

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but not much. I don’t have dreams about the future anymore.”