The Forgotten World

by R Gene Curtis

  Tara laughs. We’ve spent a lot of time working together lately. The result of our time together has been that her research is moving forward while mine is stagnant. I have good ideas, I just haven’t figured out the right application for them. At least not yet, but I will. And then I’ll graduate and get out of here for good.

  We crest the hill, and Tara walks briskly down the trail. It takes some coaxing before my body starts to move in the same direction. We haven’t even been on this hike that long, and I’m completely soaked with sweat and my legs are about to melt into a pile of fatty goo.

  I took Andrea on hikes all the time back in college, in the mountains near Prescott. Those hikes were all-day adventures, and I could go all day. Not anymore. I hope Tara isn’t planning on going too much farther.

  “Keep up, Karl.” Tara calls as she sprints up the next hill. I huff and puff and curse myself for agreeing to come. She told me she wanted to get all the details about my academic review with the committee. So far I’ve done a lot more catching up than she has. Next time, we get caught up in the office.

  “When’s the last time you exercised?” She calls down from the top of the hill as I trudge slowly up it.

  One hundred and twenty-three pounds ago. “Four years, probably.”

  “Ouch! We should do this more often.”

  I would have to do this all the time to have a body like Tara’s. Her hiking outfit, just a sports bra and shorts, shows a body that suggests she spends a lot less time at her desk than I do at mine.

  Graduate school is too hard to spend time exercising. I’ve given up so much to come here; I have to make my newest model work. I have to find a dataset to apply it on and get some publications. I have to graduate.

  The trail descends down yet another hill into a covered area out of the sun. A stream runs through the miniature valley. Climbing out of this place is going to redefine torture. Still, I follow Tara down the winding trail onto a wooden bridge over the stream and look up at a waterfall.

  “I’ve talked to a dozen professors,” I say. “I just don’t see a good fit in any of their labs. I had a good place with Sam. He believed my work would find a home eventually.”

  Tara laughs. “We’re still talking about that? Well, if you want time to figure things out, Khanh definitely isn’t the right person for you.”

  Exactly. I rest my elbows on the bridge rail. The water races underneath us, hurrying off to somewhere important. I might enjoy this if it weren’t so hot and I weren’t so tired. And, if I didn’t have a huge hike to get myself out of here. Beads of sweat drip off my nose and fall into the stream.

  “Do you have any other options?”

  “I haven’t found them yet.”

  “I guess you’re stuck then.”

  So comforting.

  Pittsburgh has so many more bugs than Arizona. Within 30 seconds of stopping, I’m breathing them in. And I hate having bugs stuck in my nose.

  “You ready to go?”

  I don’t move.

  “Aside from the workload, how is your lab?” I ask.

  She shrugs and leans on the bridge next to me. Her shaped shoulder brushes up against my chubby arm. I nearly step away, but I like the dopamine and oxytocin rush I get from her touch, so I decide to leave it there.

  “It’s good,” she says. “There are some snotty members, but probably not more than most labs. That reminds me, I need your help figuring out how to get started on my next assignment. After we finish the hike here, do you have a few hours?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. I bought you a new shirt to try out after you shower.”

  “Sure.” I probably will shower today.

  “I’m thinking I’ll start buying you a new shirt every day. My only requirement is that you shower before you put them on.”

  I laugh. “It’s not worth it.”

  Our hands are touching on the bridge railing. Were they touching like that before? Did I put my hand on hers, or did she put hers under mine? My fingers itch to wrap around her hand.

  “We should come back here in a couple weeks, after the leaves have changed.” Tara slips her hand out from under mine and puts it around me. I shudder as her hand glides over the rolls of fat. “Maybe after you help me come up with an idea for my semester project for Computational Genomics. I’ve heard that class is a bear.”

  “I have some ideas for your project.”

  She smiles at me, sunlight sneaking through the trees and caressing her face. She leans close to me and whispers, “I like you Karl Stapp.”

  “I like you, too.” I’m not sure if it’s true or not.

  She leans into me a little more. I don’t say anything, and neither does she. My heart pounds in my chest so hard I’m sure she can feel every beat. A gorgeous girl is cuddled up next to me, and I’m her fat teddy bear with a heart pounding her shoulder hard enough to give her a massage.

  I put my chubby arm around her back, swallowing her whole.

  It can’t be comfortable, and Tara pulls back. Her green eyes are playful, seductive. “Maybe we should skip work this afternoon.”

  She looks like she’s glad to be here. Glad to be with me. I can’t imagine why. Tara glances down, and I see her lips. They look soft.

  Tara closes her eyes and leans her face to the side. I turn my head a little the opposite direction.

  My heart rate is faster than it was when we were running up that hill.

  She is really pretty.

  Our lips are almost touching.

  I haven’t kissed anyone since Andrea. We were hiking that day, too.

  I pull away. I don’t want this. Not again.

  “Shall we go on?” I pull my hand away. I hadn’t realized I was holding Tara’s hand again.

  “Of course.” Tara doesn’t seem phased, though she reaches out and takes my hand again. She pulls me toward the trail. “It will be too hot to bear out here pretty soon.”

  We walk out of the stream area and back toward the trail.

  Holding hands.

  It’s been years since I walked anywhere holding hands with a girl. I’d forgotten what it feels like—the softness of the touch, the feeling of togetherness. Hard for me to reconcile those feelings with Tara as the girl next to me. Especially when I’m drenched with sweat.

  And I almost kissed her.

  My phone vibrates in my left pocket. I ignore it and focus on my next step as we start up the hill.

  Tara stops and reaches in my pocket and pulls out my phone.

  “It’s not important.” I reach for the phone, but Tara holds it away from me, just out of my grip. I reach across her, trying to take it before she does something crazy—like answering it. Then, I realize where my arm is on her body, and I pull my hand back. I cough and ignore the heat rising in my face.

  She swipes her finger across the phone to answer it and puts it to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Karl?” I hear a familiar voice say. It ties my stomach up in knots to hear it. I can’t even remember the last time I talked to Pearl. Her voice sounds so much like Mom’s.

  “This is Karl’s girlfriend,” Tara says in her normal voice, winking at me. “My name’s Tara.”

  I try to grab the phone from her, but Tara shakes her head and waves me back.

  “Karl? A girlfriend? No way. How did you pull that off?” Pearl laughs. Her laugh is so much like Mom’s.

  “Nothing a little lipstick and eyeshadow couldn’t cure.”

  “Boy, am I grateful for you,” Pearl says. “I haven’t talked to Karl for more than three years.”

  “And, dear lady, what is your relation to Karl? Not an ex-girlfriend, I assume?”

  I groan and reach for the phone again. Strike three.

  “I’m his sister. Hasn’t he told you about me?” I look at Tara in horror, but she shrugs and gives me a little smile.

  “Of course, he has, darling. I was just teasing. He’s been telling me how he’s just dying to come and visit you som
etime. It’s been too long, it seems. He talks about how much he misses Arizona all the time. It just isn’t as hot here in Pittsburgh, you know.”

  “Really? He said that?” Pearl is gullible; hearing her voice makes me feel guilty. If I wasn’t always in the middle of something when she called, I’m sure I would have answered eventually.

  “One thing you need to know about me is that I never lie.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I was actually calling in hopes that he could come and visit. Is he around?”

  “No, he just stepped out to use the restroom before you called. When are you thinking?” Tara looks at me and grins.

  “I can’t go and visit her,” I whisper frantically. Tara waves me away like a gnat and takes a few long strides up the hill until she’s far enough away that I can’t hear Pearl anymore.

  “September 23rd? … A break in the middle of the year … For what? … An international event. Really? … Yeah, I’m positive that will work.”

  I stop chasing Tara and sit down on the trail and put my arms over my face.

  I can’t go see Pearl.

  It will take time away from my research.

  It will bring back too many memories. I’m not ready to go home.

  “Here, let me give you my email, and I’ll make sure he gets it. T dot Howell at cmu dot edu. Yeah, that’s how you spell it, two l’s.”

  Tara’s going to make me do this. I don’t have the heart to cancel on Pearl. I would have to talk to her to do that.

  Tara finally hangs up and gives me my phone.

  “What was that all about?”

  Her green eyes are dancing. She’s enjoying this way too much. “When were you going to tell me you had a sister?”

  “When were you going to tell me that you were my girlfriend?”

  Tara laughs. “Does that mean you’ll come home with me after the hike? I have some great adult films, if you’re interested in those. Or we can watch an action movie, or do whatever you want.”

  I cough and ignore the heat. “I thought you wanted me to do homework with you.”

  “That can wait.”

  “I have a lot of work I need to do for Khanh by Friday.”

  “I’ll take a rain check then.”

  “Yeah. Some other time.”

  It’s a quiet walk the rest of the way back to the cars.

  How could she do this to me? What if I see Andrea while I’m in Arizona?

  I haven’t seen Andrea since the day before I left to come here.

  I can still see it—sitting atop the mountain ridge. The trees raced through the canyon, the stunning view augmented by a soft breeze that cooled our sweat soaked skin. Because in the Arizona mountains, the breeze cools you down.

  It had been a perfect day.

  “Andrea, I want to marry you,” I said, leaning over and kissing her. I still remember how comfortable it was kissing her. A promise, a friendship. There wasn’t any of this flirty guess-what-I’m-thinking stuff that exists with Tara.

  Though, that time the kiss didn’t feel right.

  Andrea pulled back, and I remember the surprise in her eyes. “I thought after dating me for all these years, you would have had enough.”

  I laughed and pulled her close. Her hair blew onto my face, but she pulled back before our lips met again.

  I wish time could have stopped there. Andrea stood there in my arms, framed with a large pine tree behind her, her hair blowing against my face, her lips slightly parted. I don’t know if I’d ever seen Andrea so beautiful or loved her so much.

  But the words that came out of her mouth that day weren’t the words I expected. She didn’t tell me that she would come to Pittsburgh with me.

  She told me that she was pregnant with someone else’s baby.

  And now Tara is going to send me back to Arizona.

  8 Reality

  Cadah

  My body infuses with energy. The sun is up; it’s a new day and time to get back on the trail. I roll out of my fuma skin, shivering as the soft, white fur falls away from my naked body. The cold morning air bites my bare skin as I grab my tunic off the fuma fur and pull it over my head. I reach for my tights and pull them on, anxious to be dressed.

  “I’m not coming,” Ore says, still rolled up inside her fuma skin. “You can pick me up here on the way back.”

  I laugh. Ore hates mornings—the fuma skin doesn’t wake her up as much as most people. “We’ll reach the turnoff today,” I say. “We’re almost done. And then we’ll go back home.”

  Ore groans in reply. “I’m not walking another mile through this forest.”

  “If we don’t get down to the trail soon, you know your father will walk into our little women’s camp and pull you out of your fuma.”

  Ore grumbles, but the thought of her father is enough to push her out of the skin. “I’m glad we’ll finally reach the turnoff today. I’m sick of walking.”

  Walking isn’t the only thing she’s sick of.

  “Maybe Ler will notice you today,” I say helpfully.

  “Yeah, since he’s paid so much attention to me every other day,” Ore mumbles. I’ve lived with Ore and her father for a long time, since my parents died, and so I’m quite adept at understanding mumble. Especially when it’s about her crush on the son of the village chief, Ler. He’s tall, he’s strong, he laughs easier than anyone I know, and he has a strong sense of duty. But, despite the extremely small number of single women in our village Watch, and despite Ore’s constant plotting to get his attention, Ler hasn’t fallen for her yet.

  I shrug and finish rolling my fuma skin into my pack. For all her complaining, Ore was the one who volunteered to accompany Ler over to Keeper for the annual check-in with our sister village. As her best friend, I signed up, and Ziru, our village leader, sent Ore’s dad as a chaperone. It’s the largest check-in group we’ve ever sent to Keeper. That’s okay, of course. I’m glad to be here, and I’m excited to see Keeper. This is the farthest I’ve ever been away from Watch.

  I just wish Ler would pay more attention to Ore. It would mean everything to her if he would.

  Once Ore has finished putting together her pack and supplies, we climb down the trail and find the men.

  “Ho! Ladies,” Ler calls as we approach. “Did you sleep well?”

  Ler is up and ready to go, but Ore’s father is still gathering his pack. Apparently, he’s a little sluggish this morning, too. Like daughter like father. Ore leads the way over the snow drifts. Our feet crunch in the snow. This is the dead time of the season, when the snow is melted enough to come out of hibernation, but still covers the ground too much for there to be any work done for finding food. We all hope for warm days during this time. Each day that passes with snow on the ground is another day we cannot gather food, and another day we consume last year’s supply.

  But, the melting snow also gives us time to do things. Thus, the timing of our trip to Keeper.

  I shrug my pack off and sit down on a snow drift. While Ore tells Ler about our night’s sleep, I break off a piece of snow. The cold makes my fingers swell, but I don’t mind too much. We’ll be walking soon, and I’ll warm up.

  “Are you going to throw that at someone?” Ler asks.

  I look up, startled. I hadn’t heard him come over. Ore is over with her father now, helping him roll up his pack. I can’t think of a thing to say to Ler, and so I just smile and shake my head.

  “My father said you had a good arm when you were a child. I’d hate to be on the receiving end now.” He laughs good naturedly. Ler’s voice is as beautiful as he is, if that is possible. Deep, resonating, it makes me happy every time I hear it.

  I stand and hold the ball menacingly. “Back off,” I say, “or suffer the wrath of Cadah.”

  Ler laughs, but it cuts off abruptly when we hear footsteps coming from the direction of the valley. Ler gives me an odd look, and I shrug. No one comes from the valley. No one can come from the valley, well, besides Sapph
iri.

  Our ancestors moved here from the valley two hundred years ago, but the barrier blocked anyone from following them. The only ones who can still cross into the mountains are the Sapphiri, the people with bright blue glowing eyes. Wynn, the valley’s Azurean king, sends one up here every decade or so to try and kill us. Wynn has ruled the valley for nearly 200 years, and unless the legendary blue princess shows up, he will rule for another 200 years. And, if history is any indication, he’ll try and kill us and our descendants for every one of those years. From what I understand about the magic of the barrier, if everyone on the mountain dies, the barrier will break and anyone, including Wynn, will be able to pass into the mountains. Not that we would care at that point, but we’ve been entrusted with the secrets of the mountains, things that will make it possible for the Blue Princess to one day defeat Wynn.

  If she ever shows up. She was supposed to show up 20-30 years after we got here. Instead, centuries have passed, winter seasons have been cold, and we spend our summers gathering food. And waiting. Always waiting. Eating, gathering food, marrying, having children. And waiting. We have a way of life in the mountains. Us, Keeper, and even the people in the Northern Alliance. The environment is harsh, the work is hard, and the wait is long. But we keep living.

  And killing every bright-eyed traitor Wynn sends our way.

  The footsteps continue to get closer, and Ler pulls a knife out of his shirt. There isn’t a better marksman in the village than Ler. If this person is a traitor, he’ll die the moment his eyes come into view.

  It’s a man. He stops when he reaches the trail. He’s dressed as we are, and his eyes are dark. Ler hesitates, but then puts the knife back into his tunic.

  “Who are you?” Ore’s father demands. His pack is finished now, and he stands in front of Ore, his arm holding her behind him.

  The man sneers. “I’m Arujan,” he says.

  “What are you doing out here? So far from any village? This is the year for the Watch emissaries to visit Keeper. Not the other way around.”

  “I was sent as a spy,” Arujan says. “Down to the world of Wynn.”