Questmyre

by HaaJar Johnson

  “Keep it together, Robin. There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just darkness…” She whispered fearfully.

  Robin began to lose some of her nerve and bravado as her eyes strained to make out her darkening surroundings. Squeezing her cold and numb hands tightly she began to whisper the song she had made up years ago. She always sang it when she felt extra afraid or confused.

  “Twilight pours on your tear soaked face and I cry; I cry with you. In a house; not a home, I watch you stand all alone and I watch; I watch you. Don’t think you’re on your own because I’ll never go. I’m near; I am near you. You have a friend…. to depend…til the end…together we will win. I’m here for you; I am here… for you…I’ll be there for you for-ever.”

  She ceased singing when she came across a short black iron bench hidden amidst a crop of deep green bushes. Robin sat on the hard cold metal and leaned her head back to stare at the heavens above. She let loose a huge sigh that turned into a tiny sob. The sun was nearly gone and Robin was finding it hard to distinguish any of her surroundings.

  “Twilight pours on your tear soaked face...” she sang softly into the growing silence of the night.

  “I’m not scared. Nothing scares me. I’m good. It’s all good. I’ll just sleep here tonight and worry about tomorrow... tomorrow. Then, I will go and find Vick wherever he’s staying and see if he will ... If he will…” She faltered, not knowing what she expected Vick to do. How could they survive alone on the hard streets of New York City? She did not know exactly; had not thought it all out and she definitely did not have all the answers. All she knew for certain was that she did not want to be alone. Not like this.

  Robin pulled off her small green jacket and draped it over her upper body for a blanket. She knew her efforts were in vain, however since her flimsy denim jeans and purple t-shirt would not keep her warm through the night. Looking down she took notice that even her sneakers had a few tears in them.

  Resting her hands on the hard bench like a pillow, Robin laid her head on her hands. With her makeshift blanket and pillow positioned, Robin begged herself not to cry and to fall fast asleep. Only one of those pleas was answered…

  As she slept, her cheeks sparkled in the glow of the moon and only a nearby night owl was witness to her silent weeping.

  That night Robin slept within the deepest slumber she had ever experienced. It was as if she had fallen into a bottomless well and even the opening had blacked out into an endless darkness. Her head tingled with a cold more frigid than she had ever known and her body felt weightless and insubstantial.

  When Robin awoke she had no idea where she was and how she had gotten there. Her first thought was to find what had pulled her from her dreams.

  Opening her eyes was the first feat Robin had to undertake. It felt as if her eyelashes had melded together in the night and her eyes would never again have the privilege to greet the morning sun.

  “Oh my God!” Robin proclaimed as she leaned up from her sleeping position and continued to struggle to open her eyes. Bringing her hands up to rub at her eyelids, she began to work in earnest wondering how something as simple as opening ones’ eyes could have become such a challenge.

  “What the heck?!” Robin proclaimed as her eyes stretched out of whatever odd film had restrained them. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Robin struggled to bring the world into focus. When everything finally came together Robin screamed and shook with pure horror.

  She was not where she had been when she fell asleep the night before. Gone were the bench, the bushes and the leaves. In fact, all of Central Park had disappeared overnight!

  CHAPTER 2

  Robin found that instead of lying on the hard metal bench she had fallen asleep on, she was now crouched in a corner. Her head was leaning against a wall coated in thick royal blue paint. The overpowering smell of dust filled her lungs which already felt weighed down as if this was her first time using them for the purpose of breathing.

  Her small green jacket which she had used as a make-shift pillow the night before lay limp in her right hand, she quickly put it. She began vigorously wiping at her eyes to get past the fog which seemed to cloud her vision. When she could see clearly her heart came alive, pumping blood frantically and adrenaline began to soar throughout her body. She was not at all where she belonged.

  “What… Where am I?” She whispered fearfully. There was really only one explanation for what had happened. At some point during the night, some sick creep had picked up her sleeping body and transported her somewhere else. Robin’s hands and knees shook with the enormity of her situation, “Oh heck no! I’ve been kidnapped!” She finally spoke the words aloud and stared incredulously around her. This sort of thing could only happen to her, she thought sardonically.

  Robin began to search the room she found herself in. She moved with lightning speed knowing that the quicker she got out the better her chances of survival.

  Her heart beat against her chest as if it were trying to flee. Robin had been in some extreme situations in her life but she had to admit this was her very first kidnapping. Well, no, come to think of it that was not entirely true. There was that time she had tried to run away from an extraordinarily abusive foster home. When her guardians had finally caught up with her she had been locked in the basement for three days.

  Thankfully child services had for once come to her rescue right on time. On the third night of captivity, she had heard a commotion in the room right above her. Seconds later the basement door had been unlocked and her latest inept social worker had been standing there with a look of both surprise and guilt plastered across her face.

  Robin had nearly forgotten about that particular memory as she tried her best to push her blackest moments into the shadows of her mind. She had run away last night in the hopes of changing her luck for the better. In her mind, when she awoke this morning, the perpetual darkness of her life would burst with light and all her worries would be a thing of the past.

  However, in its usual fashion, her life had thrown her yet another immense obstacle to tackle and get over. Sighing deeply, Robin blinked her eyes, shook her head, gritted her teeth and let her brain take control. She would find a way out of her current predicament. She was Robin, she was strong, and she was indestructible. At least she hoped so…

  Glancing around frantically, she searched to see if her captors hid in any of the many shadows scattered throughout the room. She was alone and so decided it best to slow down enough to analyze her situation. Robin perused her surroundings. She was standing in what appeared to be some sort of study or perhaps a sitting room.

  She could not be sure for two reasons. One; she had never been in any home big enough to have a study or sitting room. The second reason being; her fear was so overwhelming she could barely remember to breathe let alone determine how best to categorize her surroundings.

  Robin surmised it must be such a room, based on various television shows she had seen and books she had read. Having had such a troubling childhood, Robin was and had always been quite an avid reader. She dove into books at public libraries, at school and pretty much anywhere to keep her mind off of her life. It was so much easier to ignore reality and just focus on the fun-filled adventures of more fortunate individuals.

  Nearest to her was the only window in the dark and dingy quarters. With escape, her biggest concern at the moment, Robin moved towards the glass window. She hoped she could climb out of it without being caught by her captors. Robin ran her hands over the dirty and chipped white painted wood of the window frame and wondered at how dirty everything seemed to be. The only exception was the actual glass of the windows which were impeccably clean. Apparently whoever owned the house was afraid of pine sol but not Windex, she thought sarcastically. Robin brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Her breath caught at the absolutely stunning sight outside her prison window.

  The sky appeared as she had never seen it before. In fact, she knew in an instant that she was not in New Y
ork City anymore. Where the heavens above had once been dark blue and littered with bright white stars, what she saw now was a dark hunter green expanse of night sky.

  Where there should have been a sun, stars or even the moon, all that hung in the empty space between the ground and the heavens were spiky clusters. She noticed these white orb-like objects were semi-translucent and glowed with an odd light. They were way too close to be stars and did not appear stationary but bobbed to and fro across the sky like floating balls in an ocean. To Robin, they looked like badly fashioned spiked paper-mache spheres idly thrown up in the sky and long forgotten.

  “Oh my...” Robin heard the whispered exclamation come from just below the window, which she surmised was situated about two stories from the ground. Squinting, Robin searched the area just outside and below her to see who had spoken. She prayed fervently it had not been one of her captors but rather someone who could and would help her escape. She knew too well the average New Yorkers’ penchant for ignoring pleas of help and deftly ‘minding their own business’. Robin could only hope that if she were still in the city that never sleeps, some naïve and helpful tourist would come to her rescue.

  In a flash, Robin found the source of the voice, standing within a cluster of bushes below and to the right of her current position. It was a young boy, about her age, with eyes huge and golden-brown with dark pupils. He stood with a sky-blue rock held timorously in his hand. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost; his mouth gaped slightly open in surprise. Robin could not see much more than his lean silhouette and light colored eyes as he stood in the shadows.

  Robin stared back for a moment wondering at the boy’s appearance. There was something different about him that she could not quite pin-point in the heat of the moment.

  “What the heck am I thinking? Focus girl! You have to get out of here now!” She shook her head and pursed her lips in determination.

  Waking from her dazed stupor Robin tapped on the window and called out to the boy, “Hey you! Can you help me?! I need help getting out of here! Can you please call the police or something?” The boy continued to stare as if frozen in place. Robin rolled her eyes in frustration and began trying to pry the window open. Just her luck, the dumbest boy in New York City, was her only hope for escape.

  “Oh, dag! It’s stuck!” Shaking with fear now, Robin tapped frantically at the window trying to wake the boy from his trance. “Hello! Can you hear me? Can you see me? I need help!” She screamed at him. Her breath quickly fogged the window.

  The boy shook his head as if to wake himself from his own shock then motioned for her to leave the house.

  Robin looked at him incredulously, “Didn’t you hear a thing I just said? I need your help! I can’t just walk out of here! My kidnappers are probably waiting just outside the door!” He continued to motion for her to leave and his waving became increasingly frantic.

  “Okay, I guess I can try to just walk out. Maybe they’re amateur kidnappers and left me here by myself.” Robin mumbled to herself as she turned away from the window and refocused on the small room behind her. The dark midnight blue color of the painted walls made the room seem even smaller than it actually was.

  Robin noticed a single green door at the other end of the quarters and quickly turned towards it. However, before she had taken a single step something stopped her in her tracks. Robin paused feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

  “Wait… Something’s wrong...” She whispered softly as she finally took a good look at her surroundings. There was a dusty old brown velvet couch, and tall wooden wall library at the rear of the room. As everything was caked in dust, Robin realized she was in an expensive yet rarely used room.

  Everything in the room appeared ancient, from the worn wooden floorboards to the massive blue velvet drapes. It did not take long for Robin to realize what had gnawed at her conscious and put her ill at ease. “Dolls…” She looked around incredulously. “Thousands of dolls…”

  What was most incredible about the room was what filled nearly every crevice of it. While everything else in the room was dirty, dusty or falling apart from misuse, thousands of wooden dolls no taller than four inches in height stood on nearly every available surface of the room. Not one of them had a speck of dust on them and it was clear whatever psychopath owned this place, was a bit particular about the cleanliness of their dolls.

  Robin had to watch where she moved because the room was filled to the brim with these miniature figurines. They were littered across the floor, some lay on chairs, on desks, in front of the books of the library, on lamps and atop boxes. They each had distinct faces etched with precision however their bodies were all identical with the basic limbs all carved in soft brown wood. What was so odd about their placing was the fact that while the surface they stood on was packed with dust and debris, the dolls themselves were immaculately clean.

  Robin had almost knocked over a few of them when she turned to leave. She wanted with all her heart to stop and study the perfectly sculpted dolls but the danger of her situation did not allow for any more dallying.

  She made her way carefully through the room, trying her best not to knock over any of the figurines for fear that if she did she would bring her captor’s attention to her escape.

  It felt as if each moment that passed by was a decade long. Her heart beat so hard against her chest, she was afraid it might burst free. Despite her fears Robin continued to move forward; one step before the other. When she stood before the green door she tentatively turned the ornate brass doorknob expecting it to be locked.

  To her surprise, the door opened effortlessly and Robin cautiously poked her head out to see what awaited her on the other side. The air in both the room and the hallway was musty and she felt as if she would sneeze at any moment. Robin feared if she did, she would be found out and her escape; thwarted.

  On either side of her, all she saw were countless closed green doors along the same midnight blue colored walls and an old worn dark brown hallway rug. Small dim recessed ceiling lights made a pattern of light along the hall. Not wanting to allow her imagination the chance to run wild and freeze her with fear, she quickly exited the room. As she stepped into the hallway she went with her gut instinct and decided to go towards her right. She walked with caution, trying her best not to make a sound as she passed a number of shadowy doors.

  As she passed each one she was overcome with the fear that some monster; man or beast, would jump from behind it and drag her within. She finally came across the stairway leading down to the first floor. Robin you’re a fighter and a survivor, just keep putting one foot in front of the other and do whatever you have to do to get out of here alive! She told herself forcefully.

  Robin took one step and nearly screamed at how loud the old wood creaked beneath her sneakers. Holding her breath she waited to see if anyone came running or moved about in the house. Nothing... She mouthed the word, “Okay” then slowly; painstakingly made her way down the stairs and towards what she surmised should be the front of the house.

  All along the floors, the windows, shelves and side tables, she noticed the same tiny wooden dolls were apparently scattered all throughout the old house. She was sure that whoever lived here had a creepy ‘thing’ for dolls and she was not too eager to meet them.

  When she finally made it to what she figured would be the front door of the house, Robin heard the sound of someone slowly walking down one of the long corridors just above her on the second floor. Their hard bottomed shoes slid against the floor in an eerie rhythm and the sound nearly scared Robin to death. She paused in complete and utter fear.

  All of a sudden the footsteps stopped, apparently somewhere near the room Robin had left, or so she guessed. The entryway was bare of any tables, mirrors or pictures on the wall. All she saw atop the wooden floor boards were hundreds of thousands of the same wooden dolls, all fairly identical in form. All she could discern in the dim light of a dusty brass chandelier right above her, were the f
our windows facing the front of the house. Each was covered in dark blue velvet curtains so she could not see outside. Robin looked ahead of her and noticed the front door just a few feet away. She gulped hard and felt as if she had to forcefully fight her body to do her bidding, as she was frozen with fear.

  While the walls were painted a deep dark blue, the door was bright red and made of wood. Robin inched towards it and stretched her hand to grab the doorknob. Once she grasped it, she slowly turned the knob to see if it was locked. To her relief, it was not. As she pulled it open, Robin heard the sound of someone knocking incessantly on a door above her. In her heart she was sure it was the door to the room she had just escaped.

  Not wanting to find out what would follow that knock; Robin ran out of the house, across a gray colored porch and down a short flight of wooden stairs. She turned towards her right; straight towards the bushes where she had seen the young boy standing.

  He was still there in the shadows and motioned for her to come towards him. Before Robin came too close to the boy she slowed to a cautious walk and called out, “Who are you? Where am I? What is this place?” She whispered loud enough for only him to hear.