Realmwalker

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Realmwalker Page 6

by Jonathan Franks


  Gen fought the impulse to stroke her hands up and down his back, instead, just giving the socially acceptable high school friend hug: distance between their hips, distance between their cheeks, arms still. But it felt so good to be so close to him. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she was this close to him, that she missed the closeness to him, the scent of him. His curly, sandy blond hair tickled the tip of her ear.

  Jim didn’t let go, but said, “This is the first hug I’ve had in a really long time.”

  “I know,” she said softly. She felt him starting to cry again.

  “See? Look at me, I’m a stupid mess.” He started to pull away but Gen tightened her arms to maintain her hold. He stayed where he was. “I’m so stupid. We went from best friends to this? Where all you ever do is hear me complain and hear me crying all the time?”

  Now Gen did give in. She started rubbing his back with one hand, just up and down his shoulder blade. “Ssh, ssh,” she shushed. “It’s okay.” She felt his chest heaving softly. “It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” he cried. “Why can’t I just be normal again?”

  “Because you’ve been through something terrible. Someone you loved left you. But you have to pick up and move on some time. Let me help you. Of all the people, let me help you. Just trust me, okay?”

  He tucked his face into the crook of her neck. She could feel his face was wet, and she closed her eyes and soaked in the feeling of his warm breath on her collarbone. Gen kept rubbing his back and shushing him. They stood in each other’s arms for a long time. She thought it must have been ten minutes, at least.

  Finally, he straightened and sniffled. He stepped back a step, gently parting their embrace, but he kept his hands on her hips. His arms were longer than hers, and she didn’t know what to do with her own arms now, so she put her hands under his elbows.

  “Sorry I got your shirt wet,” he said.

  Gen smiled at him. “It’s okay.”

  “I don’t let anybody see me like this, not even my dad. I guess, especially not my dad. I never even get to see him anymore.” He took a long breath, trying to steady himself. “Okay, I’m okay.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “You’re right. I need to be a real person again. I’ll do it with you.” He blurted out, then, quickly, “The computer club. I’ll do the computer club with you.”

  Gen grinned at him and nodded. “I know. I’m so happy to hear that.” He was slightly taller than her, so she looked up at him, into his eyes. “I’m so happy you can be my Jimmy again.”

  Jim nodded his head slowly. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

  “I know. It’s okay.”

  He stepped another step or two away from her, all the way away. Their arms slid apart and they weren’t touching at all now.

  “Thanks for sticking with me. I wouldn’t have even been this good if it hadn’t have been for you, calling me all the time and talking to me at school all the time. Thanks for not giving up. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

  Gen shook her head. “Nope. Never.” Then she said, “One more thing, though.”

  Jimmy raised his eyebrows again, questioningly.

  “About Mrs. Gates being our sponsor for the club... Yeah. You have to ask her.”

  “Me? I thought you said you already talked to her about it.”

  “I did. And that’s what she said, that she would only do it if you asked her yourself.”

  Jim looked worried.

  “You can do it!” Gen said. “You can totally do it. Just go up to her before class and tell her you want to start the club with me. That’s all you have to say. Seriously.”

  “You really think I can do this?” he asked.

  “I sure do.” She quoted Back to the Future, “‘If you set your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.’“

  Jim chuckled. “Okay.” He stood up straight and wiped his eyes again. “Okay. Let’s give it a try.”

  “Awesome. I’m so proud of you. Happy of you. Happy for you.” Gen was getting flustered again. “You know what I mean. Okay, I gotta go home. Call me later.” She rushed to the door and slipped her shoes back on.

  “I will.”

  She opened the door and started to leave.

  “Gen?”

  She looked back to him.

  He nodded again at her. “Thanks.”

  She winked at him and left. He locked the door behind her, then leaned against it, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes, trying to convince himself that she was right.

  chapter 10

  Herron had nearly finished his business at The Meadows. Nai had, as usual, thrown a terrific party, and now Herron had to rush. He’d spent most of the night being entertained and he had to complete his task before sunrise. He had met and been thoroughly enchanted by Ivy, Nai’s successor. He figured she had a ways to go before she would be entirely at ease in a large group of important and daunting fairies, but he was sure she’d be a just and fair leader. He liked her.

  Tonight was the new moon. This was the only night that he’d be able to reach the Heart of The Meadows. He was standing at the ring of mushrooms that would allow him to enter the Heart’s Chamber. His mind kept wandering back to Ivy while he was trying to focus on his task. He needed to walk nine times around the ring, clockwise, without stopping, for the Chamber to open to him. Every time Ivy came into his thoughts, he lost count.

  He swore aloud, steeled himself, pushed her from his thoughts, then counted aloud, “One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.” Counting aloud was a bit of a faux pas - no experienced Realmwalker had to do it. Novices were the only fairies who used the crutch of counting aloud.

  A heartbeat after he had completed his ninth time around the ring of pale white mushrooms, the grass within the perimeter of the mushrooms shimmered, then disappeared, revealing a hole leading down into the ground. Wooden rungs, nobody knew just how old, but, old, were set into the side of the hole, as it was too narrow to fly down for most fairies. There wasn’t room to move his wings enough to fly.

  Herron climbed down and was surprised when his feet landed in a puddle on the ground instead of the hard earth he was expecting. He looked around the Chamber and saw there was water trickling down one of the walls of the Chamber, the rock wall. This was unusual. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He’d visited hundreds of Hearts and he’d never seen any sort of water or moisture in a chamber. Even the Heart of The River and the Heart of The Great Lake were dry chambers of air, with the water held back three wingspans from the Heart in a perfect, beautiful sphere. Concerned, he searched the rest of the Chamber.

  Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. The silver bowl that sat on the floor under the Heart was overflowing with the fine, golden dust that formed under every Heart. He’d never stayed in a Chamber long enough to see it, since the sunrise following the night of the new moon would seal the entryway and he’d have to wait an entire month to get out, but the general belief was that the dust formed on the bottom of the Heart like condensation formed on a glass, and it dripped or slid down to the point of the Heart and fell into the bowl. It was thought it was a byproduct of the strong magical energy that was contained with.

  The Heart of The Meadows was one of this favorites to gaze upon. It was a faceted gem, hanging at chest height in the center of the Chamber. It was a translucent green, a deep, serene, lush, grassy green, not the color of an emerald, but more like the color of a thick grassy meadow. Herron chuckled to himself, thinking that was ridiculous to have just realized. Naturally, the Heart of The Meadows would be the color of a meadow.

  He opened his leather satchel and placed it on the ground next to the bowl, then he carefully lifted the silver bowl and tapped it gently over the bag, making sure to only take roughly half of the dust from the bowl. Realmwalkers were dissuaded from emptying the bowl. You never knew when another Walker would need to tap the Heart themselves,
and every Heart’s residue collected at a different rate. Some were quick, leaving tremendous mounds of the powder, and some took ages to get this much.

  He finished tapping the Heart, so he cinched the satchel closed and started back toward the shaft but he was distressed by the water. He kneeled next to the small puddle. He dipped a finger into it. It was warm and slick. He brought it to his nose, but it didn’t have a noticeable odor. Hesitantly, he gently tapped his moist finger to his tongue. The water tasted slightly salty. He frowned, deep in thought, and climbed out of the Chamber. It was another ridiculous thought, but he couldn’t help but think the moisture in the Chamber tasted like tears.

  -

  Herron sat next to the ring of mushrooms. It was less than an hour until sunup and the sky was a deep, rich pink. He cursed himself for having cut things so closely. He was making a lot of rookie mistakes tonight. When Realmwalkers are first starting out in their duties, they are warned that they should bring a month’s worth of food and water with them when they visit the Chamber of a Heart. It was silly, a month’s worth of food and water was very heavy and impractical to carry. It was meant in fun, to scare the Novices a little. But Herron had actually been maybe half an hour away from actually being sealed in a Chamber.

  He sat in the grass next to the portal and waited. He figured while he was here, he may as well watch the sunrise.

  “Hey,” he heard from behind him. “What are you doing here?”

  He turned around to look over his shoulder. It was Ivy.

  “Hey, yourself,” he said. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  “Didn’t I mention it enough times last night?” She laughed. “I’m a farmer. I usually have work to do. I’m up before the sun every day. But I had a big harvest yesterday and today, there really isn’t much to do. But I’m always up by now. My farm is right over that hill.” She pointed to the left.

  Herron looked, but all he saw was the crest of the small foothill. “Oh,” he said. “Very nice.”

  Ivy giggled. “You can’t see it from here, goof,” she said. “Mind if I join you?”

  Herron shook his head. “Not at all. Please,” he gestured to a spot next to him on the grass. Ivy flitted over and sat down next to him.

  “The sunrise is so beautiful,” she said, dreamily. “Is this what it looks like in every Realm?”

  “The idea is more or less the same, but, no, sometimes it is dramatically different. The sky here always turns this beautiful shade of pink and the sun slips over the hills so slowly and gracefully, and as it wakes up it turns from that glowing orange into blinding yellow.” His eyes were on the hills, but he felt her gaze on him as he spoke.

  He continued, “In some realms, like The Caverns, for instance, they’re underground so you can’t see the sky at all. In the Winter Kingdom, the sky never gets completely black like it does here. It stays sort of a deep, dark blue, so dark that you think it might actually be black until you look at it for a little while and you realize just how deep and rich that blue really is. The sun comes up slowly, very slowly, and is pale and white. Then it shines for days; weeks, sometimes.

  “In The Valley of Sands, it’s a desert. The sun rises there much like it does here. The sky goes from black to a very pale blue, and then the sun peeks over the mountains and everything around you blazes with light.”

  “Wow,” Ivy said, softly. “That must be amazing, seeing all of that.”

  Herron shrugged, and as he did so, he felt the edges of their wings brush together. Reflexively, he drew his in a little bit, but then instantly regretted the move. He said, “That’s the path my life has taken. It’s no more great than relying on the same sunrise to greet you every morning. After all, most fairies are in bed right now, and they don’t see the sun come up at all. They wake up and it’s already up, and they’re busy when it goes down.”

  “Yeah, well, most fairies don’t appreciate what they’ve got,” Ivy said. “Most fairies don’t see anything.”

  “Not us,” Herron said.

  “Not us.”

  Then they were quiet, and they watched the sun slowly rise from over the hills, gradually shifting from the glowing, rich orange into the vibrant, blinding yellow sun of the day.

  Ivy stood up. She smiled at Herron and flew away.

  Herron watched her fly toward her farm, wishing he’d had something better to say to her. Maybe next time, he thought, and he flew upward to the heavens, to bring his treasure home to The Sky.

  chapter 11

  Emmet sat outside on the fire escape, smoking a cigarette. He was scared and angry and he felt very depressed. Since he and Donny weren’t married, he wasn’t eligible for bereavement days. He tried to go to work, but he was so despondent that he was bringing down customers. His boss took him aside to talk to him, then it happened again, so he was let go.

  Now Emmet didn’t know what to do. He felt very alone. He was going to go through everything that Donny had endured, but on his own. He’d have to apply for unemployment again, and Medicare, and probably food stamps. Hopefully, the Medicare would cover the hospice care he’d need by the end, because he certainly wouldn’t be able to work then.

  He lit another cigarette from the butt of the one he’d just finished then flicked the butt down to the street. Then he took a long pull from his can of Old Style beer and swore when he dribbled some of it on himself. He was wearing a t-shirt that Donny had bought for him at the last U2 concert they’d gone to. U2 was Emmet’s favorite band and he and Donny had seen them in concert a bunch of times.

  “What am I going to do?” he asked himself.

  He finished his beer and looked down the street. At two o’clock on a Tuesday on the north side, not much was going on underneath him. Lou was walking on the sidewalk below, then saw Emmet up on the fire escape and waved excitedly - a very feminine princess wave.

  “Hi, Em!” Lou called. “Don’t you move! I’m coming up!”

  In a couple of minutes, Lou was sitting with Emmet on the fire escape. “You look like shit,” Lou said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Lou said. He plucked the cigarette from Emmet’s fingers and took a long drag.

  “Lou!” Emmet shouted. “You can’t do stuff like that anymore!”

  “Settle down, sweetie,” Lou said. “Saliva is totally safe.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what the doctors say.”

  “I’d still feel more comfortable if I knew I wasn’t going to get you sick, too,” Emmet said. “This is all my fault.”

  “Stop blaming yourself, Em. Seriously.”

  “But Donny and I wouldn’t —”

  “Seriously, stop. We’re all here for you but you have to stop with all of this blaming yourself. It’s getting a little tiring. Ray Ray didn’t even want me to come over here, but I told him I still believed in you and we need to support you. Just cut this shit out.”

  “What do I do, Lou?”

  “You pick yourself back up and you live your life.”

  “What’s left of my life.”

  “Enough!” Lou yelled and stood up, towering over Emmet. All of the effeminate “queer voice” had vanished and a barroom brawler voice that actually matched the size of Lou’s body boomed out of him. “Man up! Cut this shit out! Stop feeling sorry for yourself or, so help me, I will cut you out.”

  Emmet gaped at him. He’d never seen Lou like this before.

  “Yeah? Nothing to say about that, huh?” His regular “queer voice” returned. “Now, stand up, you faggot!”

  Emmet’s eyes were wide and he didn’t move.

  “I said stand up.”

  Emmet stood.

  “Now,” said Lou, “Put your hands on that railing.”

  Emmet put his hands on the railing, facing up the street.

  “Now scream, ‘I’m alive!’”

  Emmet said, softly, “I’m alive.”

  “Scream it like a man!”

  L
ouder, this time. “I’m alive!”

  A couple of people looked up to the fire escape from the sidewalk, but they kept walking.

  “Don’t tell me, you big queen. Tell all of them! Scream it!”

  “I’m alive!” Emmet shouted at the top of his lungs. “I’m alive!” Tears were rolling down his face.

  “You’re god damn right you are,” Lou said. “You’re fucking alive. Now act like it.”

  “For now, I’m alive,” Emmet said. Lou cocked his head to reply but Emmet said, “No, Lou, let me finish.” Lou nodded. “For now, I’m alive. That means I need to use the time I have. I need to do some things for myself, and for you guys. I need to make the most of this and not waste it. Even if I didn’t have... If I didn’t have AIDS now, I’d die some time. Right?”

  “You got it.”

  “Then I’m going to live for as long as I can. Fuck it. I got no one to answer to. You’re right. I’m gonna live until I can’t anymore.”

  “Good for you, honey. Welcome back to the world.”

  -

  Emmet joined two support groups. At the church up the block, an AIDS support group met in the basement on Tuesday nights. At the church down the block, a support group for people coping with loss met in the basement on Thursday nights.

  His resolve to make the most of his remaining time lasted about three days before he started to cave into the depression again. He shot up most of the money he had left, smoked and drank much of the rest. Sometimes Lou would bring something over. But he kept going to the support groups.

  He filed for unemployment and Medicare and food stamps, and was amazed when he managed to secure all three. As long as the programs held out, he had everything he need. Unemployment paid for the rent and the smack, he sold the food stamps he didn’t use, and Medicare got him on the cocktail that he hoped would prolong his pathetic existence. He had no idea what most of the pills were, and he spent an hour every week slotting them properly into two labeled day-of-the-week medicine boxes, because he couldn’t tell most of the pills apart, much less count them, when he was high. He was lucky he could keep track of time enough to take them.

 

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