Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series

by Vaiya Books

  “Yeah, that’s what everyone says,” Jimmy replied nonchalantly, as he glanced down the staircase and then back at Ian, William standing next to him. “So, you wanna watch the first Lord of the Rings now?”

  “Sure.” He’d watched Lord of the Rings before but that was over two years ago. It would be great to refresh his memory on it and learn some quotes from it so that he could better understand his new friend Jimmy.

  “Great. Let’s go downstairs--I’ll set it up. Will, you know the drill.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied William, grinning, as he raced into the kitchen.

  Smiling at his eagerness, Jimmy led the way downstairs, Ian following. But they had only gone a few steps before a flash of white lit up the stairway.

  Moments later, a loud boom sounded, shaking the house to its core. Goose bumps crawled up Ian’s arms; his head swayed like a blade of grass. The atmosphere swooped down on him like a raven, wrapping him tightly in its frozen embrace. This was turning out just like last night. Forget what he’d thought earlier, he could very well be making a return visit to the other world.

  With the cautious steps of an adventurer walking over a rope bridge above a torrential river, Ian, following his tour guide, descended the stairs into the basement, his eyes meeting a large crackling fireplace, whose lapping flames reminded him of the fiery monster from Lord of the Rings. Moments later, he made it to the bottom of the winding staircase, and, as Jimmy hurried over to the TV to set up the movie, Ian studied the large open basement.

  To his left sat a soft-looking velvet couch facing a wide-screen TV and a bookshelf full of games and movies; to his right was a ping pong table and a dart set on the wall further down. Straight ahead of him were three halfway opened doors, one of which led to a bathroom.

  Turning around, Ian stared at the western side of the basement, his eyes latching onto a black curtain that stretched from one side of the room to the other. Curious, seeing Jimmy too busy with the TV to notice what he was doing, he stealthily crept towards it and upon reaching it, parted the curtain in the middle. What he saw astounded him.

  Beautiful sheathed swords on the walls fitted neatly into brass heraldic crest sword hangers; longbows, composite bows, recurve bows, and wood, aluminum, fiberglass, and aluminum-carbon arrows hung on wooden bow racks. The shelves were filled with pointed helmets, backplate armor, plate mail armor, bracers, gorgets, arm guards, chest guards, finger tabs, stringers, arrow pullers, and many other kinds of armor pieces and archery equipment.

  Fear somewhat lessened by this encounter, Ian, amused by Jimmy’s medieval obsession, closed the curtain and secretly walked back to the TV just as William came down with a bag of barbeque potato chips, a half-opened sack of pretzels, and six pop cans in his arms, which he soon deposited gently on the ground. Task complete, William opened the potato chip sack, and, after flinging a few chips into his mouth, flopped down onto the velvet couch, automatically pulling out the leg rest with his free hand.

  Ian sat down on the couch beside William, as Jimmy flipped off the lights, apparently oblivious to him spying out his medieval collection. As Ian watched the pitch-black screen, he heard a haunting woman’s voice break through the silence:

  “The world is changing. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air.”

  Not hearing her next set of words, as these had already infiltrated his mind, poisoning him with dark thoughts, Ian watched as Jimmy threw a couple logs in the fireplace, the devilish fire now swirling into grotesque shapes resembling Greek mythological monsters, Cerberus, Chimera, and Manticore, among others. Already he was regretting staying awake for that Ancient History lecture.

  “Creepy, isn’t it?” asked Jimmy, as he plopped down into a rocking chair, folded a gray blanket around him, and donned a black wizard’s hat, making him seem an ancient sorcerer, as troubling minor music took center stage.

  A cold shiver ran through Ian’s body, his angst returning. For some reason, he didn’t remember this movie being this creepy before, and he’d barely watched half a minute of it. This couldn’t bode well. Right now, there was no way he could handle seeing those ghost-like grim reapers go after the hobbits. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “You wanna turn on the lights?”

  Jimmy just chuckled. “No way, man. That’d ruin the atmosphere.”

  Not wanting to appear like a child afraid of the dark, he refrained from saying any more. But all it took was another clap of thunder to send him back into a panic. His body heated up. His breathing grew heavy. It took no stretch of the imagination to envision himself being executed by Master Thargon. He could already see the white doctor’s garb of the sorcerer and a long syringe, oozing with green poison, as the mad scientist prepared to give him a lethal injection.

  Thinking this, suddenly, as if in tune with his horror-filled thoughts, Ian’s mouth went dry, leaving him as parched as a Saharan nomad. Whether it were from all the steak fries he’d eaten or from barely touching his water at the restaurant, he found it terribly unsettling. He tried swallowing, but it didn’t work. He began to fidget.

  “Hey, is something wrong, man?” asked Jimmy, while he lowered the TV’s volume and faced Ian, concern widening his eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m real thirsty all the sudden,” he forced out painfully in a croaky voice. “Do you mind if I get a drink?”

  “Not at all.” Jimmy paused the movie and lay back on his rocking chair, his face showing none of Ian’s agitation.

  Getting off the couch and running up the winding staircase, Ian heard Jimmy quote from the Lord of the Rings again:

  “I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened,” moaned his friend in a sorrowful despairing voice that sent shivers down Ian’s spine--he didn’t care if it were only a movie quote: it didn’t feel right; it seemed to fit his life perfectly. Was Jimmy trying to make him miserable?

  As he reached the kitchen, he frantically searched through the cupboards for a drinking cup and quickly found one. Wasting no time, he filled it up with tap water from the faucet, not even bothering that he turned it on hot.

  What’s wrong with me? thought Ian. I’ve got to stop acting so childish. What’s the worst that’s going to happen?

  As he gulped down the lukewarm water and stared through the window into the dark night sky, his question was answered as he pictured a white-robed Master Thargon unleashing fire magic, cooking him alive, then performing an autopsy on him.

  Complementing his thoughts, a powerful streak of purple lightning brightened up the countryside, revealing a large ghostly forest behind the house, which he could already envision wolves lurking in, a bare bone trampoline, whose matless frame reminded him of a tornado-wrecked town, and a dilapidated shed, which no doubt housed criminals. Ian’s heart nearly stopped beating.

  Something wasn’t right. Alarm swept over his solemn face, fear slashing the bars of its jail. Throwing the plastic cup into the sink with such force that it bounced back out, he hurried around the rectangle table in the kitchen into the living room, which had two tall bookshelves, a small flat-screen TV above the mantelpiece, and two leather couches. Making a split second decision, he took the shortest route to the basement.

  As he leapt over the leather couch, suddenly, a burning white light encompassed him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to save them from damage, sliding roughly onto the fuzzy blue carpet.

  Knees reeling from the floor burn, he groped around on the floor, crawling feverishly towards the basement, telling himself that this couldn’t be happening again. Helpless, he felt the carpet quickly change to snow and ice beneath his long fingers, causing his heart to sink like a bowling ball in a lake. A cold winter wind blew harshly around him, and needles of ice stung his face, arms, and any part of his exposed skin.

  Tormented with fears of an early death, Ian covered his face with his hands. To think that this was to be his end--dying by hypothermia, all alone, in another world no one thought existed. It was completely unfair; none of thi
s even should be happening....

  “Hey! What’s wrong?” It was William. “Trip over the couch?”

  He hesitated as he reoriented himself, his eyesight steadily coming back, the cold ground gradually giving way to fuzzy carpet. “Yeah,” he mumbled, dazed, gratitude and thankfulness gushing from him. He swiftly took his hands off his face and tried to look as normal as possible. “I tried jumpin’ over it but it caught my foot.”

  William smiled knowingly, a hint of worry in his voice. “Yeah, that used to happen to me all the time until I started going around it. But seriously, are you ok?’

  His kneecaps stung, his ears tingled, his hands throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He haltingly lifted himself off the ground.

  A warped smile materialized on William’s face. “Are you sure? Cuz you look awful.”

  “Once my kneecaps stop burning I’ll feel great,” murmured Ian, in his most assuring tone, as he tried to stop his teeth from chattering.

  “Whatever you say.” William passed around the leather couch, ran into the kitchen, and, after turning the faucet handle back to cold and waiting a few seconds, drank straight from the faucet.

  Ian followed behind him, secretly picking up the cup on the kitchen floor that had rebounded out of the sink and putting it on the countertop. Right now, saying the obvious seemed like the best course of action. “So, you thirsty too?”

  Swallowing a mouthful of cold water, he wiped his mouth with his hand and looked at Ian. “Of course, man. You’re not the only one who had salty food there.”

  Recalling William shaking salt all over his fried chicken, steak, and even vegetable soup, he nodded with a smile. “Yeah, you’re a salt maniac. My mom would have a fit if I used that much.”

  “Who cares?” he replied humorously. “You only live once.” Then concern radiated from his face. He paused, his tone now solemn. “Hey, so you think you can handle the movie?”

  “Sure. I’ve already watched it once before and I was only fourteen then,” he said, upset by this weak reputation he was building up, yet powerless to stop it.

  “Then you should be fine,” William assured him, although he looked anything but convinced.

  Heading downstairs, putting one of his hands on the varnished cherry wood banister to keep himself from falling over, followed closely by William, Ian watched as flames soared from the fireplace, logs crackling. In his cold state, it looked very inviting. In spite of all the horrid creatures he’d seen in the flames earlier, right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up by the fire and warm himself up; but since he wanted no more questions, he instead took his spot on the couch and leaned back, pulling a lever which popped out the leg rest.

  Jimmy looked completely oblivious to what Ian had just gone through. “Seems the storm’s died,” he said, completely relaxed, as he switched from The Weather Channel back to the movie. “Looks like my sister won’t have to unplug anything after all.”

  “That’s good to know.” Still cold, Ian gratefully accepted the pink blanket, covered with red, purple, and blue flowers, that William offered him, not caring that it likely belonged to Jimmy’s sister, and quickly buried his arms and legs in it. “So, where’s she at anyway?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Probably hiding upstairs.”

  “Am I that scary?” asked Ian, finding some of his humor returning.

  “Nah, she’s just shy,” replied Jimmy. “She’s always down here when it’s just Will and me.” About to say more, he paused before switching his train of thought. “It’s not like I have any room to talk, though. When my sister invites her friends over, I make sure that I’m invisible.”

  William broke out laughing, soon followed by Ian.

  Jimmy, slightly flustered, waited until they had both calmed down before speaking. “Ok, enough of that. Back to the movie now; no more interruptions.” He resumed the movie and then tossed the remote control onto the 8 x 10 foot purple rug as he turned toward Ian and grinned. “Still afraid, Ian?”

  “No way, man! I’m ready for anything.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Jimmy, enthusiasm fueling his voice.

  Ian folded his hands between his arms and nodded in silence, as the woman’s disturbing voice once again filled his ears, threatening to ruin his bravado. It didn’t help any that throughout the movie, William continued to watch him, as if he were a hospitalized patient under his care.

  After nearly three hours, the movie ended and Ian slowly arose from the couch, stretched himself out, and yawned. “Cool movie, Jimmy. Now I wanna watch the next one.”

  Jimmy’s eyes beamed with surprise, as he took out the movie and snapped it reverently into its case. “I’m glad you liked it. I thought it’d bore you.”

  “Well, you thought wrong,” he said, laughing, as he reached into his right pocket, pulled out a stick of wintergreen gum, unraveled it, and stuck it into his mouth.

  “I did.” Jimmy stared into space for a few seconds and then broke out of his daze. “So, what’s Darien like? Do you think he’d want to hang out with us?”

  “Probably,” replied Ian slowly, somewhat unsure, as Darien usually kept his thoughts about people to himself and rarely mentioned Jimmy. “Though he has football practice until six, Monday thru Thursday.”

  Jimmy shuffled his feet around uncomfortably. “Ok, what about Eddy?”

  Hesitating, he blushed slightly, turning his head away from Jimmy, as he humorously recalled Eddy’s comment last week about Jimmy being the “Master of the Underworld”. Though it really didn’t fit, as Jimmy loved fantasy and not Greek Mythology (at least to his knowledge), it still made Ian laugh every time he pictured Jimmy reigning over the underworld with his hand-crafted longbow over his shoulder ready to employ at a moment’s notice.

  Then there was Eddy’s comment yesterday that Jimmy looked like a prince out of a Disney movie. Though it could be construed as a great compliment, as princes were usually very handsome, Eddy had meant it to show how weird Jimmy was. Once again, his friend had a knack for insulting people. Sure Eddy’s quips about people were usually hilarious, but they came way too often and could be rather cruel.

  Thinking about the euchre game last night, where Eddy had told Tianna and Samantha the latest gossip about Jimmy buying a Lord of the Ring’s finger puppet set for his oldest sister, Ian frowned--though not enough for Jimmy to see--and turned to face him, finally answering his question. “Yeah, I think he’d want to hang out with us; he’s pretty nice to most people.”

  Jimmy smiled wryly. “Pretty nice? Most people? I like the confidence, man.” Pausing, as Ian shifted around, he let it slide. “So, how about all of us hang out tomorrow? If you want to eat out again, we could go to my favorite restaurant, Shadowcrest Manor. It’s got the best chicken and desserts that you’ve ever tasted, an authentic atmosphere that will take you back to the Middle Ages, and breathtaking live music from a professional octet.”

  Ian paused, as Jimmy’s fervor died down, and smiled. “Another buffet--that might just do me in.” Laughing, he warmed his hands near the fireplace and curiously read the words above the mantle. Darkness wars against the light. It unnerved him, yet he found it hard to take his eyes off the large cursive words written in silver ink.

  “Don’t give me that,” said Jimmy, glaring amusingly. “You’re thin enough--I’m sure you could handle it. Besides, you’ve gotta see this place. It’s awesome.” Sensing no opposition, he went on, “So how does tomorrow at five sound? I’ll drive again.”

  “That’ll work.” He thought about the best way to tell Eddy if he wanted to hang out with Jimmy the castle-man but gave up. It would come easier in the morning.

  “Great!” Excitement beamed from his face, as he turned to William. “So, Will, you up for five?”

  William frowned. “Can’t,” he murmured, eyes drooping. “I’ve gotta help my grandpa rake leaves and then I’m supposed to babysit my three nasty cousins.”

  “That’s rough,” said Jimmy, laughing ruefully, likely recalling so
me unpleasant memories about them. “I’d hate to even spend a minute with one of those brats.” Turning back to Ian, he proceeded, a bit discouraged. “I guess it’s just the three of us then.”

  “Yeah.” Ian glanced over at an old-fashioned clock above the TV--it showed nine thirty.

  Jimmy caught his look. “You can’t be thinking about leaving yet, Ian--the night’s still young,” he spoke with fervency in his voice. “How about we play some games on my Wii?”

  “Fine with me,” replied Ian, who mentally calculated when Rowan would leave his house, deciding she’d probably still be there for at least half an hour. “So, what kind of games do you have on your Wii?”

  “All sorts.” He breezed through his games. “I have the usual sports games, some racing ones, a couple of shooting ones, and a few sword fighting ones.”

  “How about Wii Tennis?” suggested William.

  “You’ve made a wise choice.” Grinning, Jimmy found the game and put it in before using his Wii remote to select the game.

  As the game appeared on the screen, Will’s aloofness quickly vanished, being replaced by raw enthusiasm. “Prepare to lose!” His competitive nature took over, and Ian witnessed a new side of William, one that surprisingly made Ian gain more respect for him. “First one to win two sets is the winner of the round,” he blurted out so fast that Ian could barely understand him. “The loser gives over his controller to me.”

  “Or we could do teams,” suggested Jimmy, considerably more calm than his friend. “We could put on a computer--”

  “No way, man,” said William, as he snatched the rocking chair from Jimmy. “We’ve discussed this before; I want pure competition.”

  “Then only two of us can play at a time,” Jimmy said. “Are you sure you want that?”

  “Definitely,” replied William. “I’d not have it any other way.”

  “Ok. No teams then.” Jimmy tossed Ian a Wii remote controller and looked longingly at the cozy rocking chair, likely knowing it wouldn’t be his for the rest of the night. “Let’s get this started.”