Freedom: A Futuristic Fantasy

by Jim Proctor

  “I would appreciate it if you would come with us,” the other officer said.

  Jazeen laughed. She had expected this and had spent a quiet evening reading online. “I don’t have to go anywhere with you. I’m eighteen years old. Under section fourteen-point-one of the national code, you are allowed to inquire about my well-being. Unless you are charging me with a crime and placing me under arrest, I don’t have to go anywhere with you. You have my permission to tell my parents I am fine, though I do not give you permission to give them my location. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  The officer looked shocked, but the lieutenant nodded and said, “Strictly off the record, ma’am, are you okay?”

  Jazeen sighed. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “Good. I’ll close out the report and I’ll let your parents know you’re okay.” He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and passed it through the narrow opening. “In the meantime, if any other officers approach you regarding this matter, tell them to radio me.”

  “Thank you,” Jazeen said as she took the card and read it. Hand written across the top in small print, it read, If you are in any danger, pass the card back to me. She read it again to make sure she understood before smiling at the lieutenant. “I’ll keep this handy.”

  “Goodnight,” he said as he turned and headed for the elevator. The other officer followed.

  Jazeen was shaking as she closed and locked the door. It had worked. She had researched the law and knew her rights, but had questioned whether she would have the guts to stand up for herself when the time came. She smiled and let out a nervous giggle, still shaking from head to toes.

  A feeling of relief rushed over her. This was a milestone in her independence. She knew, sooner or later, the police would find her. Now, having found her and ascertained that she was okay, they would leave her alone. It was done. She was an adult, on her own, making her own life as she wanted, no longer under her parents’ control. “I’m free!” she yelled.

  On her way back to the bed and her cooling dinner, she took a beer from the refrigerator, popped the cap, and took a sip. Yep, it tasted like burned oats and alcohol. She took another sip and climbed back into bed.

  Flipping through channels again, an old movie caught her eye. The current scene seemed vaguely familiar, though she didn’t know why. She ate while she watched, drinking her beer one small sip at a time. As she watched, she grew increasingly uncomfortable. After ten minutes, she brought up the on-screen guide. The movie was called The Skylark. The name seemed familiar, though she couldn’t remember ever seeing it before. Turning off the television, she tossed the remote aside.

  Jazeen washed her dishes and put them away. She had expected to go out after dinner to walk around town. The visit from the police had shaken her, and then that movie had unnerved her. It was nearly nine o’clock, so most of the stores would be closing anyway. A yawn sealed the deal. She brushed her teeth, changed into pajamas, and climbed into bed. She wondered how Angus’ fishing trip was going, imagining Fluffy eating fresh ocean bass as she drifted off to sleep.

  “I’m going out with my friends tonight, Jazzy,” Milla said as she sat on the edge of Jazeen’s bed.

  “No, Milla! Not tonight! Stay and read to me, please,” Jazeen said as she waved her copy of The Skylark, which she and Milla had been reading for the past week.

  Milla gently pushed Jazeen’s hair out of her face. “I’m sorry, Jazzy, not tonight. You be good. I’ll check on you when I get home.”

  As Milla stood and walked to the door, Jazeen called to her. “Don’t go, Milla! Please don’t go.”

  Her sister turned to look at her with a smile. “It’s just for a few hours, Jazzy. Mom and Dad are here. I’ll see you later.”

  “Promise?” Jazeen asked.

  Milla smiled. “I promise. Be good, my little Jazzy.”

  Jazeen clutched the book to her chest and rolled to her side, turning her back to Milla so she wouldn’t see her cry.

  Jazeen sat up in the dark with a gasp. The Skylark. Had Milla really been reading it to her, or had the title simply drifted into her dream because of the movie? So much of the dream felt real, but parts didn’t feel right. Clutching the book and hiding her tears wasn’t something she would have done. She might have thrown the book at Milla. She might have turned her tears up to full-blown meltdown to try to guilt Milla into staying. There probably was no book, or if there was, it wasn’t The Skylark. It was nothing more than a dream, made up from ideas floating around in her mind.

  Jazeen looked at the clock. She had waited all week for the luxury of sleeping in until her body decided it was time to get up. Making herself comfortable, she pulled the covers up and hoped she would be able to get back to sleep.

  When she awoke, sunlight was filtering in around the curtains. She stretched, sending her muscles the message that it was time to move. Her muscles expressed their opinion that she was mistaken. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she rubbed her eyes and stood. After staggering to the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and combed her hair.

  Going through the dresser drawers, she realized she would have to do laundry soon. She had two clean outfits, and two days before she had to be back at work. As she gathered her dirty clothes, she realized she had nothing to carry them in. That would be her first stop after breakfast. Then she’d go to the laundromat.

  The diner was crowded, but there was an open seat at the counter. The waitress took her order and poured her a cup of hot coffee.

  “Your food will take a while,” said the man seated to her left. “I ordered twenty minutes ago and I’m still waiting. Here, would you like part of my paper? I’m finished with the first two sections.”

  “Oh, um… sure. Thank you,” Jazeen said.

  The man passed her part of the newspaper, and then went back to reading the sports section.

  She looked at the front page and gasped. The man looked over briefly, and then went back to reading. A large photograph showed the cliff face adjacent to her parents’ house. Part of the cliff had fallen away, and the back half of the neighbor’s house was gone. Dragging her eyes away from the picture, she read the article.

  A large section of rock about halfway up the cliff had broken free and fallen into the woods below. With nothing supporting it, the soil above subsided. Five houses were in danger of collapse, including her parents’. Residents had been evacuated to shelters, leaving most of their belongings behind until engineers and geologists could determine if the houses were safe to enter. Early indications were that all five houses might have to be condemned. Further geological studies would be needed before a final determination could be made. In the meantime, residents were ordered to stay out of their homes.

  Jazeen wondered where her parents were. The article gave no details as to where the shelters were. Of course, they might have gone to Aunt Tracey’s house. An odd thought crossed her mind—The Skylark… the only way she might ever know the truth would be to go through her bedroom and look for the book. What a stupid idea, she told herself. The house could fall over the edge of the cliff at any moment. Looking at the picture again, she thought, If the house goes, I’ll never know the truth. She needed to know if her dreams were memories or just fantastical creations of her mind. She hated her sister, but if her dreams were real, she had once loved her. Her eyes began to well up, and she struggled to hold herself together. She wasn’t going to break down and cry here in the diner. Turning the page, she looked for something to distract her.

  After breakfast, Jazeen walked to the mall. In the department store, the only laundry bags they had were too small. It would take three or four to carry all her dirty clothes. Going to the sporting good section, she found a large duffel bag. It had a broad, padded shoulder strap, which would be a lot better than the carry handles of the laundry bags. She went back through the laundry section and picked up a small bottle of detergent on her way to the checkout.

  As she walked back to the hotel, she paused
at a newspaper vending machine and looked at the photo on the cover. The answers to her questions might fall off that cliff and be lost forever. Pulling herself away, she shook off the thought—the stupid, dangerous thought. The house could fall off the cliff with her in it, and that wouldn’t give her any answers either.

  She barely remembered walking the rest of the way to the hotel. In her room, she loaded her dirty laundry into the duffel bag, put the detergent on top, and pulled the drawstring tight. Shouldering the bag, she left her room and walked to the elevator.

  When the door opened, a bellhop smiled and nodded to her. “Are you leaving us?” he asked.

  “No. It’s laundry day,” she said with a smile.

  “Then you’re going the wrong way,” the man said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Didn’t they tell you? All the rooms on this floor are extended-stay suites. Halfway down on the right is room two fifteen. It’s full of washers and dryers. It’s all complementary, including detergent. It’s included in the cost of your room,” he said. “Your door pass will open it. All the door passes for this floor open two fifteen.”

  “Wow. That’s nice. Beats walking four blocks down and back. Thank you,” Jazeen said as she turned and headed back along the hallway.

  As promised, her room pass unlocked the door. One wall was lined with washing machines. A shelf above had dispensers for several brands of laundry detergent. Clothes dryers lined the opposite wall. In the center of the room was a large table for sorting and folding clothes.

  None of the six washers were being used, so she opened the lids of the first two machines and separated her clothes into two loads. She used the detergent she had bought, and then started both washers. She had expected to sit at the laundromat waiting for her clothes to finish. Looking around the room and seeing no chairs, she shrugged and headed back to her room.

  She had an hour to kill while the washers ran. Then she’d load the dryers and have another hour. Turning on the television, she flipped through the channels, stopping suddenly on the local news. There on the screen, was her parents’ house. The picture was a lot clearer than the one in the paper. The backyard was gone. The edge of the cliff was now no more than a meter or two from the back wall of the house. The yard where Milla had played with her was gone. Gone forever. Or maybe Milla had never played with her there. She wanted to scream. The answers to her questions were in that house.

  * * * *

  The bus stopped a few blocks from her parent’s home. Jazeen stepped out and began walking up the hill. Yellow caution tape hung on hastily installed posts stretching across the front yards of the five houses on the left. Warning signs said the structures were unstable and were not to be entered.

  Jazeen looked up and down the street. Nobody was around. Walking on, she stopped in the shade of a pear tree in front of her home. With another look around to be sure no one was watching, she ducked under the tape and ran to the front corner of the house where she hid behind a bush. Then, with a last sprint, she darted to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped inside, closing it quickly behind her.

  The house was eerily silent. She had spent a lot of time here alone, but there had always been sounds—the hum of the refrigerator, the whoosh of the air conditioning. Silence now lived here. Moving to the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest, she slowly climbed to the second floor. Walking gingerly to her bedroom door, she stepped in and looked around. It was exactly as she had left it. Slowly, she moved to the bookshelf. Working her way from top to bottom, she read the titles of all the books. Reaching the end of the bottom shelf, she sighed. She had wanted there to be a copy of The Skylark.

  Dejected, she stepped into the hallway and headed for the stairs. After two steps, she paused. Turning around, she saw that the door to the big storage closet was open. That door had been closed and locked for as long as she could remember. She assumed her parents had put some of Milla’s things in there. The closet was dark. Flipping the light switch had no effect. The utilities had probably been turned off as a precaution. Her father always left a flashlight on the nightstand by his bed, and she hoped it was still there.

  A moment later, she returned and shined the light around. Several cardboard boxes were on the floor, their covers removed. She sat and began going through them. Her mother had always been neat and organized. These boxes were jumbled, as though she had been digging through them looking for something in a hurry. Jazeen vaguely recognized some of the things. They had belonged to Milla. A flash drive caught her eye, and she slipped it into her pocket. Digging deeper, she found Milla’s old school report cards. Under it all was a cap and gown, neatly folded, sealed in a clear plastic bag—the graduation gown Milla had never worn. A tear ran down her cheek.

  In the next box, she found more of Milla’s personal belongings, including a stack of paperback books. Her hands began to tremble as she went through the pile. She gasped when she saw the fourth book—a tattered paperback copy of The Skylark.

  Jazeen took the book to her room and sat on the bed. She gently stroked the cover, and then opened it. A folded piece of notepaper was lodged inside. She stared at it for a moment before taking it out and opening it.

  For my Jazzy girl. This was your favorite book, and I kept it for you all these years, knowing someday you would want to read it again. With all my love, Milla.

  Her body shook with wracking sobs as she held the book to her chest and fell back onto the bed.

  She had no idea how long she had lain there crying. Wiping her eyes, she stood and walked to the balcony door, pushed it open, and stepped out. Moving cautiously, she went to the railing and looked over. Her balcony now hung over the abys. Far below was the wreckage of the neighbor’s house mixed with a lot of dirt and rock. Splintered trunks of trees stuck up here and there through the debris. A loud chirp startled her. That crazy bird had perched on the railing and was looking at her. It squawked loudly. Angrily, Jazeen thought.

  Another sound drew her attention skyward. Somewhere out there was an airship. After a moment, she found it. It was coming straight toward her. It couldn’t be Angus; he should still be fishing. Besides, he wouldn’t look here for her, anyway. It must be another ship, just passing this way by chance. Still, she watched.

  As it drew closer, she knew it was Angus’ ship. Occisor spread his wings and took to the air, having been perched atop the balloon. She held out her arm, and the little dragon landed gently near her wrist, then began walking up toward her face. The bird that had been watching her flew away.

  “Hello, Occisor. I’m glad to see you,” she said.

  Occisor reached her shoulder and then rubbed his face against her cheek.

  “Ahoy there!” Angus yelled.

  Jazeen tucked The Skylark inside her shirt and waved to her friend. Occisor walked down her arm and leaped into the air, soaring back to the airship.

  Angus brought the ship to a stop and tossed a line over the railing. As she reached for the rope, a large section of the cliff fell away with a rumble. The balcony shook beneath her. In a flash of panic, certain the house was falling from under her, she lunged for the rope. One hand grasped it, but the other missed. Her hand slid past the end of the rope and she fell, screaming and tumbling over the edge of the cliff.

  Still screaming, she felt herself slow to a gradual stop. Then, slowly, she began to rise. It seemed an eternity, but eventually she floated over the railing of Angus’ airship and landed gently on the deck. Angus lowered his hand and sighed. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and her whole body was trembling.

  “You’re safe,” Angus said softly. “You’re safe, Jaz.”

  Fluffy came out of the wheelhouse and laid beside her with her head across Jazeen’s chest. She felt Angus lay his hand on her forehead. Then, she heard him begin to hum softly. Fluffy purred.

  She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but her trembling had eased, and the panic that had overcome her was gone. Angus, still humming, knelt by her head,

  �
��You saved me,” she said weakly.

  Angus continued humming for a while, and she felt her heart rate slow and her breathing return to normal.

  The humming stopped, and Angus opened his eyes. “Of course I did. You’re my friend. I wouldn’t let you fall to your death.”

  “But how?” she asked.

  Angus smiled. “You never believed me when I said I was a wizard, did you?”

  “I do now,” she said with a smile.

  Angus nodded. “Enough said, then.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Because you needed me.”

  “But you should still be fishing,” she said. “And if you were looking for me, you should be over in Sharpstown.”

  “As for why I’m not still fishing, that’s a long story that will have to wait for another time. As for why I’m here, as I said, you needed me.” And then, as though that explained everything, he stood and began pulling in the line. After stowing it, he went into the wheelhouse.

  Jazeen hugged Fluffy for a moment, kissed her, and then gently pushed her head off her chest. Getting to her feet, she entered the wheelhouse where Angus was standing on the dais piloting the ship.

  “You really are a wizard,” she said.

  “Retired wizard,” he said. Then he added, “Well, until a few minutes ago, anyway.”

  “You used magic to save me.”

  Angus nodded.

  “And that’s the first magic you’ve used in years.”

  “Decades,” Angus said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Angus chuckled. “It really was a very minor act.”

  Jazeen rushed across the wheelhouse and wrapped her arms around him. “Not to me.”

  “I suppose not,” he said, patting her arm. “Now, what the hell were you doing in that house? Of all the stupid things!”

  “I know, Angus. I needed answers, and they were in the house.”

  “Yes, well, you could have died. I could feel the trouble brewing inside you this morning, and I hurried to the airship and headed this way as quickly as I could,” he said.