by B. Roman
“Please wait for me,” David pleads. “Let me reach you. Don't move away. Oh, please, Mom, wait for me, please…”
Gurgling, coughing, spurting water from his lungs, David springs to the surface. He gulps in the precious air, too much, too fast. Hyperventilating, David blacks out and the nothingness enshrouds him.
Seven
Coronadus
Maati helps Sokar roll David onto his stomach. They clear away the kelp tangled around David's body. When they had found him floating face down in the shallow water and dragged him to the beach, they were uncertain if he was alive. Now, moments later, there is still no movement from David's lungs.
“Is he breathing?”
“No.” Sokar kneels astride David and deftly applies pressure to his back, releases and presses, releases and presses. Water spews from David's mouth and nose and his lungs come alive again.
“Good. He's coming to.” Sokar stops the resuscitation. Maati removes her scarf and wipes the bile and mucous from David's face.
“He's very weak, Sokar. We should carry him back to the house.”
“He can ride my pony.” David is muscular and solid, while Sokar and Maati are trim and light. It takes both of them to lift David from the sand, stand him up, and then push him across the pony's back.
Maati and Sokar trot up the beach toward the city gates with the pony and David behind. They follow the narrow path outside the limestone wall that surrounds the city. As usual, there is no guard in the defensive tower to stop them from entering the main gate. There hasn't been a guard in the tower for years, since the last war.
“Bianca! Bianca!” Maati calls out as they arrive at the house. David is practically a dead weight and she and Sokar struggle to carry David inside and lay him on the sofa. “He'll need dry clothes,” Bianca decides. “Sokar, bring him some of yours.” Swiftly, Sokar retreats to his room and returns with a pair of cotton pants and a shirt. Bianca and Maati step into the kitchen while Sokar redresses their shivering guest.
“Where did he come from, Maati? Did he wreck his boat on the rocks?”
“I don't know, Bianca. Sokar and I were collecting shells on the beach and there he was. No sign of a boat or anything. It was like he just washed up from the bottom of the ocean.”
Sokar dashes into the kitchen. “Bianca, look at this.” He hands Bianca David's silk pouch. She opens it and pours the crystals onto the table. Maati and Sokar stand there gawking.
“Close your mouths. You look like two hungry pelicans.” Bianca's wit disguises her own astonishment. “Has anyone else seen the boy?”
“Amony was outside working on his lawn,” Maati says. “I don't know if he noticed us.”
“I hope not. It will be hard enough to explain the boy's presence. Explaining the crystals will be impossible.”
Sokar fingers the crystal tentatively, wanting to hold them, but afraid to. “How did he get them?”
“That's the impossible part,” Bianca says, thoughtfully. “It could also be very dangerous for all of us.” She puts the crystals back in the pouch.
Maati is alarmed. “Dangerous? Why?”
“You're too young to remember, both of you. I can't explain now, but say nothing to anyone. Sokar, return the pouch. When he wakes he can tell us where he got them.”
David's faint voice is heard calling from the parlor. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
“Yes, we are here,” Bianca replies cordially as she enters the parlor.
Sokar and Maati flank Bianca protectively, but the woman smiles pleasantly and introduces the two teenagers to David. They are twins in both age and appearance, with dark shiny hair and coal black eyes, and skin like honey from days and years in the hot sun. Strangely, Bianca's skin is fair, her eyes light blue. Her hair is completely covered in a brilliant blue head wrap, and David cannot see its color.
David touches his ear. His hearing aid is gone. It slips his mind that he lost it at his mother's grave. “I'm sorry, but I didn't quite get your names,” he lies. He heard them perfectly but wants to hear them again, and again.
Bianca obligingly repeats, “I am Bianca, and this is my nephew Sokar and his sister Maati.”
“Unusual names.”
With a wary eye, Sokar steps forward and hands David his silk pouch.
“I had to remove the pouch to dress you,” Sokar says.
“Dress me?” David looks down at his strange clothes. “Where are my clothes?” David asks, and tries to stand.
“They were soaked through and full of sand. We'll wash and dry them for you.”
“Where have you come from? Oh, please sit down,” Bianca says as David rises from the couch.
His tired legs giving way, David sits back down. “Uh - Port Avalon,” he replies.
“Port Avalon? I'm not familiar with it. Is it far?” Bianca sits on the chair opposite David. Maati and Sokar each sit on one of the chair's overstuffed arms.
“I don't know,” David ponders. “Where am I?”
“Coronadus.”
“I never heard of Coronadus.”
“We are equal. I've never heard of Port Avalon.”
“It's where I was born. My home town.”
“Will you tell us your name?”
“Oh, yeah. David. David Nickerson.”
“Unusual, too, to our ears.”
David laughs nervously. “Yeah. I guess it's all what you're used to.”
“Did you lose your boat?” Bianca probes gently.
“Just how did you wash up on the beach?” Sokar jumps in impulsively.
“My boat? No, I don't have a boat. I mean, I didn't use one to get here – I don't think.”
Bianca, Sokar and Maati all look at each other curiously. “How did you get here then?” Bianca asks.
David tightens his fist around the pouch of crystals. “I - uh - I really don't know. I mean, I can't really explain.”
“What do you mean you can't explain it!” Sokar shoots back, irritated at the futility of this conversation.
“Sokar, don't be rude,” Bianca admonishes him.
“How can he not know where he is or how he got here?”
“Maybe he has amnesia. He hit his head on a sea turtle or something,” Maati says, giggling.
“He didn't forget his name or where his home is. How could he have amnesia, you silly flounder.”
“All right. Enough,” Bianca commands. “David is obviously disoriented from nearly drowning. After he gets some rest, he'll be able to tell us more. Come, David. You can use the guest room for as long as you need to.”
David gladly accepts her offer. “Thank you. I could use some sleep.” And some time to think.
“I'll wake you for dinner. You are welcome to eat with us.”
After Bianca closes the door, David begins to scrutinize the room. Everything about the house is expertly crafted, masterfully constructed, modern, yet unlike anything David has ever seen. All the furnishings, the tapestries and drapes, are simple and elegant, neither feminine nor masculine, splashes of bold color contrasting against white walls. There are no pictures on the dresser, and the drawers are empty except for a few bottles of unlabeled toiletries. Hanging in the closets are some items of clothing made with clean lines, and startling colors, like the clothes he himself now wears.
David looks out the window and down the street. Every house is the same, every lawn perfectly landscaped and bordered with flowers breathtakingly blue, yellow, red, violet, and orange.
Gardeners work across the street, cutting, trimming, and shaping the emerald green grass and hedges into works of art with hand tools. Not one sound of machinery is heard, no power mower or hedge trimmer, just the click and snap of the blades.
He remembers that sound from his childhood, when he helped his mother in the garden. Billie eschewed mechanical tools. “It disturbs the meditation of gardening,” she would say. The memory makes his heart flutter.
The late day sun reflects mercilessly onto the window pane and David feels his
blood pressure rise. There is no fan, no vent for air conditioning, so David slides the window full open, hoping to feel a breeze. But the air outside is hot as blazes and still as a stone. He splashes his face with the water in the wash basin hoping for relief, but the water, too, is as hot as the air.
Weary, he lays down on the bed. The mattress is rigid, but wonderfully comfortable, and welcome. For awhile, he fights the desire to sleep. He wants to just lie there and listen to the sound of his own breathing.
While Sokar and Maati work in the kitchen preparing dinner, Bianca goes to her room. She opens a lacquered box sitting on her dresser and picks out a small sculpture. It looks just like David's Singer crystal, as though one were fashioned as a copy of the other. They match exactly, their dimensions, their cut, except that Bianca's little boat is crafted of wood.
But how could it be? she wonders. The Singer was buried years ago with her father. How did David get it? And what does he plan to do with it? She prays she finds the answers before Sechmet does. She returns the sculpture to the lacquered box and secures the latch.
Bianca removes her silk head wrap to reveal long blonde hair, which she begins to brush. For a moment, she pauses to look in the mirror, her hand in mid-stroke. Her clear blue eyes stare beyond her own image as she becomes lost in some curious reverie. Then, snapping back to reality, Bianca pins her hair up off her neck and covers it with a fresh scarf.
Across the street, Amony finishes planting a new bulb in his garden.
“Didn't you see the boy, Sechmet? Yellow hair. There is no one in Coronadus with such hair.”
Sechmet prunes a final branch from the shrubbery. “No one,” he agrees, but in truth he knows there is one other: Bianca. The Chosen One now has a counterpart.
“But how could he even get here, Sechmet? It's a complete mystery.”
“Quite. But don't tell the others. Not until we have all the facts and know for certain if he is friend or enemy.”
“Enemy? We have no enemies, Sechmet. Not any more.”
Soft-spoken, slightly built, Amony is more resigned to his uneventful lifestyle than his friend, Sechmet. Once a motivated and successful businessman, Amony no longer has the desire or the stomach to live or work in a competitive environment. He is happy that no one on Coronadus has to any longer.
Sechmet, on the other hand, wears his anger just beneath the surface, always keeping it in check until the opportune moment.
“Yes, yes, you're right. I'm sure it's all very innocent. Bianca is above reproach.”
With sinewy arms, Sechmet swings his ax high in the air, and with one mighty blow he splits the stump in two.
Eight
David tries to exhibit gracious table manners, but his hunger is overwhelming. In record time, he bolts down the vegetarian roti, which reminds him of a square burrito without the meat, cheese and beans. This pastry has potatoes, rice and lentils, and a mild spice. But the zesty stew requires a bit more caution. Between spoonfuls of the thick, pungent dish, David guzzles water to cool his tongue and spare his esophagus.
Bianca's laughter is musical. “I think Maati and Sokar were a little heavy handed with the chili and curry. Perhaps in honor of your arrival?” She lifts a knowing eyebrow at the two mischievous siblings. Maati and Sokar shoot a guilty, but smug, glance at each other.
“No. It's great,” David says, meaning it. “Hotter than a jalapeno tostada, but some of the best food I ever ate.”
“What is a tostada?” Maati asks.
“Oh, it's kind of a - well - it's got a tortilla, like the stuff the roti is wrapped in, but it's flat with meat, cheese, refried beans and other stuff on top. It's Mexican food.”
“So you're from Mexican,” Sokar concludes.
“Mexico,” David corrects him. “Mexican food is from Mexico. But I'm not from there. They have it in America, too, where I'm from.”
“What's it like in this America?”
“It's - well - it kind of looks like here, in a way. Depending on what part of the country you live in. I live near the ocean, like you, but our houses are different. Your houses look more like a tract in the suburbs.”
“What is the suburbs?” Sokar's curiosity is almost hostile.
“Let David finish his meal, Sokar,” Bianca admonishes her nephew then cautions David, “Sokar will ask you questions for the rest of the night if you let him.”
“Oh, that's okay,” David says agreeably. “I have a lot of questions myself, about your city.”
“In that case, perhaps you would like to take a tour of Coronadus.”
“That would be great. When?”
“What about now? We still have a few hours of daylight, and a walk will help us digest our dinner. Sokar will be happy to clean up the dishes.”
“Me?” Sokar balks. “It's Maati's turn.”
“I did them last night,” Maati whines.
“In that case, you will help each other,” Bianca decides firmly. “The work will go faster.”
Maati and Sokar are still bickering as David and Bianca leave the house. On the way out, Bianca selects a beret-type hat from the foyer closet and hands it to David.
“What's this?”
“It's Sokar's cap. It will keep you from looking too obvious.”
“Too obvious? What do you mean?”
“The fewer people who recognize you as a stranger, the better.”
David shrugs, not at all understanding Bianca's vague explanation. “Okay, if you say so. I don't want to cause you any trouble.” David places the soft fabric cap on his head and Bianca adjusts it to cover his hair completely. David is just about to ask her why she did this when he spies an elegant blue touring car parked in the side yard, covered with the dust of non-use. “Is that your car?”
“It was left in my care by someone a long time ago,” she answers.
“I don't recognize the model. Is it a foreign car?” Realizing what a dumb question that was, David stammers, “Of course it's a foreign car. To me, anyway.”
“It's foreign to me, too. I've never driven it.”
“Why not?”
“The engine doesn't go. Besides, walking is much better. You'll see our city from a more personal vantage point.”
David shrugs and follows Bianca out of the yard, taking a backward glance at the car. At the end of the street, Bianca and David turn westward and enter a village square filled with quaint little shops and restaurants. These, too, are white buildings with red trim. Strolling musicians, magicians, and mimes, and sidewalk artists give it all a renaissance quality.
Excited to see such a place, David peeks into each store window, then stops and lingers at the expansive Emporium window.
“Would you like to go inside?” Bianca asks.
“Yeah, I would.”
The inside of the shop is as bright as daylight, illuminated by the sun shining through rolled back panels in the ceiling. The Emporium is unusually busy for this time of day, and David and Bianca skirt their way through the aisles to avoid a traffic jam.
Shoppers browse leisurely at each and every counter, select their merchandise and place it in their personal colorful fabric shopping bags, then leave the store without paying.
“Hey, did you see that?” David whispers to Bianca. “At least three people took stuff and didn't pay for it.”
“That is the standard custom on Coronadus,” Bianca tells him.
“What do you mean?”
A jovial looking man waves at Bianca and walks toward her. Bianca gently nudges David along. “Go do something, David. You may find a nice souvenir.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. A souvenir.”
“Ah! Good evening, Bianca,” the shopkeeper addresses her warmly.
“Good evening, Rami. Business looks good today.”
“Very good. Lots of new merchandise to see. And what brings you here?”
“Just browsing.”
Just then, David rushes over to show Bianca his find. “Look at this, Bianca. Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to i
nterrupt.”
“This young man is with you, Bianca?”
“Yes. Rami, this is my friend David.”
Rami twitches an eyebrow at the boy's unfamiliar face, but remains jovial. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Well, David. You fancy the Wind Rose, I see.”
“Wind rose?” David repeats.
“An ancient mariner's compass. A wonderful choice, as long as you're not planning on sailing anywhere.” Rami laughs heartily. “Take it. It's yours.”
“I'm afraid I don't have any money with me.”
Rami's eyebrow twitches again. “Money? What good is money? Take it as a gift.”
“Oh, no. I couldn't.”
“Please. You can repay me later.”
Bianca nods to David to accept it graciously.
“Okay,” David acquiesces. “Thank you, Rami.”
“My pleasure, indeed, indeed. Let me get you a sack.”
While David examines the ancient navigational instrument, its needle strangely begins to spin. Startled, Bianca snatches the compass from David's hands and the needle stops moving.
“Here you are,” Rami says, returning with a tapestry sack. “Fill it with whatever your heart desires from my store.
“Thank you, Rami,” Bianca says, hastily stuffing the Wind Rose inside the bag. “We must be off.”
David quickens his step to keep up with Bianca's determined stride out the Emporium door and up the street, leaving a puzzled Rami behind.
“What's wrong, Bianca? You couldn't get out of there fast enough.”
“I couldn't get you and your compass out of there fast enough. If anyone saw the needle spin, you would have some big explaining to do. We both would.”
“What do you mean?”
“Must you always ask me what I mean about everything?” Bianca snaps, halting her step to face him square on. “I mean what I say.”
Taken aback at her sudden change of attitude, David becomes defensive. “Sorry, but I don't know what you mean about anything. First you want me to cover my hair so we won't be obvious in Coronadus – wherever this place is. Then you tell me it's customary here to take things from a store without paying. Now you tell me I have to explain why the needle on my compass spins. What next?”