Window in the Earth Trilogy

by Fish, Matthew

  “Yeah…,” James said. “It’s yours.”

  “That was in the car…,” Christopher whispered, and he felt his eyes burning, and soon a tear came streaming down from his eye.

  “Yeah…,” James said, placing a hand on Christopher’s shoulder.

  Kylie watched in shock as James handed the book over to Christopher. “How is that possible?”

  Christopher ran a hand over the book’s cover; he had never expected to see it again. He eased his thumb underneath the cover and lifted it up, revealing the first page. There, just as it should have been, was Christopher’s name, written by his mother: Christopher Jacob Janes. Christopher almost dropped the book in shock. “It’s my book.…”

  “They were so happy…,” James said as he turned back toward the window. The light in the room had returned while they were talking, and everything looked peaceful once more. “I’m happy I could see them again….”

  “Amazing…,” Kylie whispered. She placed an arm around Christopher and stared off into the open window.

  Christopher bit his lip as he tossed the idea around in his head for a moment. Could this be real? Could this really be possible? He looked back down at the book that James had brought back with him, and then stared back to the window ahead of him. Here was his proof. He took a deep breath before he said, “I want to go in….”

  Chapter 8: Christopher’s Discovery

  Dreams at sunset, remembering loved ones passed.

  “I want to go…,” Christopher repeated as he gazed off into the window. His hands were balled into fists at his side, his determination growing inside of him.

  “Are you sure?” James asked, placing a hand on Christopher’s shoulder. “I’m not going to stop you, but it’s really intense. I mean, I don’t even know what to tell you to prepare for what you’re going to see in there.”

  Christopher nodded as continued to stare at the window.

  “Are you really going to go in?” Kylie asked as she reached for Christopher’s hand.

  Christopher kept his hands firmly balled up, unwilling to take Kylie’s, as though the resulting comfort might weaken his resolve to go inside the window. He merely nodded, although he could feel himself weaken a bit. Was he really going to do this?

  James picked up the book that Christopher had left upon the cave floor and thumbed through it to the first page, seeing Christopher’s name, just as he had suspected all along. “This book is why you’re going, isn’t it?”

  Christopher nodded once again; he had so many feelings pent up inside of him he didn’t know any other way at the moment to respond. It was like seeing that book again brought on fresh feelings of pain and loss regarding his parents, feelings he had not even discovered yet. If everything that James said wasn’t real enough, then it was the book, which was proof beyond any possible doubt that all this was real and was something he had to do. Christopher could feel the fear inside of him, deep down in the pit of his stomach, ready at any moment to overtake him and keep him from moving. He fought with every fiber of his being to keep that from happening.

  “Please…,” Kylie whispered, upset that Christopher was not responding to their questions.

  Seeing her upset broke Christopher’s deep concentration for a moment. He just hoped this wouldn’t make him not want to go. His apprehension was growing and growing. Don’t give in to it, he thought to himself, over and over again. He turned to Kylie, taking his eyes off the window for the first time since he had seen his name in the book. His eyes began to burn again as his feelings welled up and were caught in a knot in his throat. Tears came. “I’m sorry.…”

  “It’s okay…,” Kylie whispered. She was glad to see that he was at least responding. She knew that this was important to him; she knew how bad it must feel for him. After all, she had been through this kind of grief before. “It’s okay. If you have to go, then do it. Just please…be careful.…”

  “I will…,” Christopher said, very much shaken. He wanted—so much—to tell her now how much he liked her, how much he really cared for her. If only he could assemble the correct words and just let them pour out, everything he’d felt, everything he’d thought about. Instead he just smiled and looked into her eyes, and, somehow, that was good enough. That was all he needed. He took one step forward and picked up the rope that had been fastened around James’ waist and then proceeded to tie it around his own.

  “All right,” James said as he helped his brother tie the rope into a good strong knot. “Don’t trust what you see in there, it can be real confusing. Just keep thinking about where you are, and you should be okay.…”

  “Okay…,” Christopher said. He searched down deep within himself for any kind of courage that he could rally up and take with him.

  “When you first step all the way in, it’ll be real hard to breathe…,” James said. “You’ll feel real dizzy, but just concentrate on something else and it will pass.”

  “Okay,” Christopher said. He took a few more steps toward the window and prepared to step into it.

  Kylie reached out to Christopher, embracing him tightly. The moment, to Christopher, seemed to last almost forever and he treasured every second that passed in her warmth.

  “You’ll be okay,” she whispered in his ear, “You’ll do great.”

  “Thank you…,” Christopher whispered back, wanting to say more. He always wanted to say more to her.

  “Don’t be afraid,” James said. He gripped the other end of the rope firmly in his hands, handing some of the length over to Kylie. “It can be real easy to freak out in there and want to run back in, so if you need to come back just pull on the rope.”

  “All right, I’ll try my best,” Christopher said as he raised his right foot up and over into the open window. It felt as cold as ice and made him want to withdraw from it almost immediately. It was a strange kind of feeling; it burned and chilled him at the same time. It made him feel as if his body was full of pins and needles.

  “It’s really cold, but it gets better,” James encouraged.

  Christopher placed both of his hands upon the window pane and eased both of his legs the rest of the way into the window. The burning sensation in his lower body was almost overwhelming, and he thought he might cry again. He was worried that he might even pass out from the pain. James was right, however; the more time he spent on the other side, the less it pained him. It was kind of like stepping into a cold pool on a hot summer day; although being unbearably cold at first, he slowly got used to it. Christopher was now through the window all the way up to his chest. He sat there, shaking, not quite ready to slide the rest of the way off of the windowsill just yet.

  “You can do it…,” Kylie whispered, gripping her section of the rope more tightly.

  Kate barked twice in succession, as though giving Christopher her support as well.

  Christopher mustered up as much courage as he possibly could, and then simply pushed off of the windowsill. Then there was nothing around him but darkness.

  Where am I? Christopher thought. He could feel his body falling out beneath him, or was he floating? It felt as though he might be soaring, soaring through the darkness. But where was he heading, and, if he was indeed falling, what about the rope?

  Christopher panicked at the thought, and felt around his waist for the rope. Thankfully, it was still tied to him. It didn’t make much sense, though, because he felt as though he was moving. Then, before he could give it anymore thought, the world came into focus.

  Christopher’s heart was pounding in his chest; he could feel each and every beat echoing throughout his entire body. He felt like every part of him was simultaneously throbbing as his heartbeat became more pronounced, and he could feel the warm, rushing weight of his blood coursing through him. He tried to draw in a long breath, so he could calm down, yet felt so much pressure on his lungs that he might as well have taken in a huge breath of water. In a state of panic he thought about giving the rope a quick pull. What if he died in here? How woul
d they know? He remembered what James said and tried to calm down. This too will pass.

  He turned toward the window; there he could see Kylie and James lying at the opening, with Kate sitting behind and above them in the background. It looked as though they were completely frozen in time.

  “I’m okay,” he said, although he found the words difficult to say, and when they finally did come out they sounded garbled and delayed. It was as if his voice was being played on an audio recording device at a really slow speed. He tried to wave, but found that too was a really difficult thing to accomplish.

  Christopher thought back to when he was sitting on the other side, and James had tried to let them know that he was all right. He signaled a thumbs-up, remembering that would probably be the only way he could let them know how he was doing.

  He attempted to make his way about the room, his steps seeming so slow and laborious that he had to concentrate on where he wanted to place each foot. He scanned around the room, trying to pick something of interest to investigate. The room looked as it had from the outside: the walls were distorted and shone like wet snow, as if someone had painted them with a coat of glitter and sunshine. Even the floor glittered and glistened. It was almost enough to make him motion sick. Christopher slowly pivoted his head toward the bed; it looked like a fairly ordinary bed, with sheets straightened and made up for daytime. On the bed he spied the animal that he had seen before; it appeared to be some kind of stuffed bear. It danced and shimmered the same way the rest of the room did, forcing Christopher to look elsewhere, lest he get sick.

  Christopher slowly hopped toward the door. He imagined that this was how astronauts on the moon must have had to walk. He paused for a moment, wondering if James had tried to open the door or not. He carefully placed a hand on the doorknob. Did he really want to do this? What was on the other side? These thoughts terrified him but he thought better of it.

  “What am I looking for…?” Christopher said, or rather, garbled out. He bounced his way over the dresser in the corner. On top of the dresser was something he could barely make out, something that didn’t seem to have the same shiny quality as the rest of the room. Christopher wondered if that’s why James had been attracted to the book—perhaps it hadn’t been shimmering either.

  “A photograph.…” Christopher’s voice sounded garbled. He struggled closer and closer, utilizing all of his energy to get a better look at it. He reached a hand out to grab the photo when it was at arm’s length, yet hesitated for a moment. The room had grown black when James had reached for the book, would the same thing happen to him?

  Christopher paused for a moment, unable to decide on whether or not he should try and touch the photo. Then again, perhaps this was what he had to do in order to see his parents, as James did. That was the real reason why he was here, wasn’t it? Christopher once again searched inside himself and pulled up whatever courage he could find. As delicately as he could, he let his finger brush across the photo, and, just as he had feared, everything went black.

  Christopher sat at his old kitchen table, light pouring in from outside and bathing the room in a soft orange light. It must have been almost evening. He looked down at his hands, although he wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted to. Fork in one hand, and napkin in the other, he eyed the salad on the table before him. The salad had ranch dressing smothering it, just as he always liked it, and then there was cheese, and lots of it, to easily defeat the healthy purpose that the salad may serve otherwise.

  “Don’t poke at your salad Christopher,” Christopher’s mother said as she shook her head and continued to eat her own meal. “Eat it instead; it’s good for you.”

  For a moment Christopher forgot that she was sitting there, although he couldn’t remember exactly why. He stared long and intently at his mother’s face, framed by the window, sunlight streaming into her long brown hair, her kind brown eyes smiling back at him.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and frowning for a moment.

  Christopher didn’t like the frown; he wanted her to be happy. “Oh nothing. I’m just not feeling hungry all of a sudden.…”

  “You should eat up. Tomorrow is a big new day, you know?” she said, smiling and then turning her attention back to her meal.

  “Yeah…,” Christopher said, straining for a moment to remember why tomorrow was a big day. “Oh—graduation.”

  “Like you forgot…,” she said, laughing under her breath. “And once summer’s over you’ll get to go to high school…are you excited?”

  “More worried…,” Christopher answered, picking out a carrot from his salad and sticking it in his mouth. It tasted like a carrot when he chewed, and, when he swallowed, he felt it go down his throat.

  “Worried? Why honey?” she asked, bringing a hand up to her face.

  “Just about kids…,” Christopher said. “You know, there are a lot of people in Bloomington I don’t know and they’ll all be at that school.”

  “You’ll be fine….” She reached across the table to place her hand over Christopher’s. “How could the other kids not like you? You’re a great kid. And I should know; I raised you!”

  Christopher smiled. She always did have a nice way of making him feel better about things; even if he knew that they weren’t exactly the truth. He didn’t feel very great anyway; he was barely graduating, thanks to his grades.

  He slowly rose from the table, feeling dizzy for a moment. Perhaps he was just tired. He tossed the remains of his salad in the trash and put the plate in the sink, rinsed it off, and then made his way out of the room. He was a bit hesitant at first, as though part of him wanted to remain there with his mother. He turned to look at her.

  “Not too much time tonight with your games,” she said as she smiled at him. “You’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”

  “Okay…,” Christopher said, giving her one last smile in return.

  As Christopher began to make his way upstairs to his room, James and his father came in through the front door.

  “Son,” his father said coldly, nodding to Christopher.

  “Hey…,” Christopher quietly replied. He and his father were not getting along, mostly due to his bad grades. He had been grounded for the better part of the semester and had just had his beloved videogame system privileges returned.

  “How was soccer practice?” Christopher asked, turning to James. For some reason it was strange to see James, although it didn’t make much sense as to why, since he always came home around this time after soccer practice.

  “Eh…” James bounced his soccer ball once off of his knee and then missed it, the ball bouncing to the floor. “Not bad.”

  “Hey, not in the house…,” their father said as he removed his work jacket and placed it on the hanger by the door.

  “Sorry…,” James said as he retrieved his ball. He looked up at Christopher from the bottom of the staircase. “Going up to play games?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Christopher said. He wasn’t sure as to why he added the “think” part; of course he was going up to play some games!

  “Cool,” James said, nodding. “I’ll be up later to kick your ass in some Street Fighter.”

  Christopher shook his head and continued his way up to his room. He paused in front of the door to his room. Why did he feel so strange today? Maybe he was getting sick. He hoped not, not with graduation tomorrow. He had big plans. His parents were going to take him out to dinner, and then to the mall. Hopefully he could weasel a videogame or two out of his parents. Well, as long as his dad still wasn’t pissed at him about his grades. At least he was graduating, though; what was the big deal?

  Christopher shook off the strange feelings and placed his hand on the doorknob. A sense of fear overcame him, something about fear of what was on the other side. He quickly flung the door open, closing his eyes. To his complete lack of surprise, he was in his bedroom. He cautiously stepped in, curious as to why he was being so cautious. He had watched a s
cary movie a few days before, Poltergeist; maybe that was what was making him so jumpy.

  Christopher had to laugh at himself for a moment; he was acting so silly and irrational. He fingered through his game collection looking for something to keep him amused for the few spare hours he had before he had to sleep. He finally decided that it would be the Goonies 2 game that he had just picked up at a used game store before being grounded. The game wasn’t all that great, and the graphics were rather dated, yet he loved that movie so much. He thought about how much fun it would be to go on an adventure just like that one, to go exploring some hidden cave full of pirate treasure while on the run from the Fratellis and befriending Sloth, the gentle giant.

  James came bursting into the room a few hours later. “Mom says we got an hour,” he said as he sat down next to Christopher on the carpeted floor, regarding the television with slight disgust. “Not this game again.”