Chapter 11
791 Words
The Watcher:
What in the world? Was this supposed to be real or was I getting my own personal version of the twilight zone? Looking from a story-tellers point of view, it was good. I had always like sci-fi as a child. Strange, though, I had never thought to write a sci-fi novel. Even though I was the one writing this stuff down, I couldn’t help but wonder where it was coming from and was there more for me to see. Was any of it live? Or was it all just Memorex?
I began to straighten up the living room and was planning on taking a quick nap when the urge to call my mother crossed my mind. We didn’t talk often though I tried to keep in contact. But right now I needed to hear her voice. I didn’t suppose I was what she thought I could have been, not that she complained about who I was. She had tried to use the old “I want grandchildren” routine until I reminded her that my brothers had given her plenty, legitimate and illegitimate. “Well, I don’t have any from YOU!” And the conversation had ended.
I couldn’t remember if I had ever even wanted children or a family life for that matter. It wasn’t that I was against the idea, it just hadn’t come up. Maybe I was a die hard for meeting the right women. Maybe for me it would just have to happen. A family. Why was I even thinking about this? What was making me question my hermit like existence? I would give my mother a call in the morning. Maybe I just needed a piece of her Dutch apple pie and homemade French vanilla ice cream.
The Walker:
As I made my way through the night desert, towards the new light, thoughts of Martha seemed to creep back in my mind. After my arrival at the manor, talking with Marty had become awkward at best. This wasn’t her fault. She was the same as she had always been and the same friend she had always been. The problem was definitely me. I didn’t see the skinny kid anymore, but a lovely young woman. I found myself going out of my way to catch glimpses of her throughout the day as she went about her work. We did spend some of her free time talking like we used to. Did anyone notice me during this? It’s hard to say.
One evening, I spotted Martha heading for the small pond on the north end of the land. There was a large willow tree there that she had loved as a child and now spent time at quietly reading or contemplating. Over the five months since I had come home from New York I had come to realize that I had fallen in love with Martha. She was familiar, had always been my best childhood friend, even with the age difference, and now she was one of the most lovely creatures I had ever laid my eyes upon.
My heart felt as if it would burst as I watched her take down her hair and let it blow in the evening breeze. I began to walk towards the pond, towards Martha. As I drew near, she slowly turned her head and smiled at me. “Jackson, come sit with me. I have missed talking to you.” I was just about to sit next to her and she looked into my eyes. In that moment my world changed. Her smile faded, slightly, as she searched my eyes for the answer to what she saw in them. I had always been her friend, but I know she saw the yearning in my eyes, the yearning that was for her and her alone.
I saw her breath in deeply and because I could do nothing else, I sat as her eyes stayed trained on mine. I opened my mouth to speak as she smoothed out the folds of her cream colored skirt. She drew her feet from the pond, still looking in my eyes, and leaned towards me in recognition. I never had to speak. I never got the chance. My world exploded.
(Back to the Present)
Again, my memories have kept me entranced while I walked to the second column. The physical distance between them was not that far, I don’t think. Somehow, though, I don’t believe my walking is only physical. I’m not tired, though I have walked for many miles. When I reached the light that called to me, I could swear I heard a voice. I saw the item I was compelled to pick up, on the ground at my feet. What in the world is going on with me?
- Writer
