by Liz Kessler
Tony’s eyes twinkled for approximately another nanosecond. Then he took the paper from me. He held it close to his face, then at arm’s length. Then he looked at me. Jumping away from the bench as if it were suddenly on fire, he whispered, “Where are you from?” His face had drained of color. “Where am I?” he asked, turning in a circle as he scanned the square. “What is this place? What’s happened to Olivia?”
I didn’t know where to start with his questions. Each one could take an hour to answer properly in itself — and we didn’t have that kind of time.
“Do you remember her?” I asked instead. “Do you remember your wife?”
“Yes, yes! Of course I remember her. We were going away to celebrate our silver wedding anniversary.” Tony flopped back onto the bench. “It was going to be the trip of a lifetime,” he went on, “but then Olivia got sick and she told me to go with Charlotte instead.” He nodded slowly as he talked, as his real life came back to him.
“There was an accident or something. I don’t remember much about it; I was having an afternoon nap. Next thing I knew, I was waking up here.”
“So you remember arriving here?” I asked.
He nodded. “As if it were last week.”
I decided not to point out that it actually was last week.
“We’ve been here more than six months now,” he went on. “Probably closer to seven. We’ve made it our home. The only home I thought I had.”
Tony turned scared eyes on me. “I abandoned my wife. Charlotte and I forgot all about her! Spent our time laughing and joking and eating fine food, and all the time, poor Olivia . . .” He shook his head, as if to beat away his words. “All that time,” he whispered. “She must be beside herself with worry.”
“It hasn’t been months,” I said. He needed to know the truth. “It’s been six days.”
Tony snorted. “I wish it had been, but you’re wrong. We have a whole life here; we have —”
“Time works differently here,” I said, interrupting him. “Everything works differently here. This is Atlantis.”
He stopped, mouth open, and stared at me.
“Look, one thing about time is that we don’t have enough of it for me to explain properly,” I told him. “But trust me. I’m here to help you get back.”
“To Olivia?”
“Yes — if you want to.”
“Of course I want to — as long as Charlotte can come, too!”
“I’m hoping that everyone from Prosperous II will come, too.”
“Good. Just tell me what I need to do.”
I reached into my pocket for the other pieces of paper and held them out for him. “Do you know any of these people? They were on the ship with you.”
Tony took the bundle of paper from me and flipped through it. “I know all of them,” he said. “You’ve got the crew here, as well as the passengers.”
“We need to find them and get them back to the ship.”
“What if they don’t want to go back?”
“If you just tell them about it, they probably won’t want to. They’ll be like you were. They’ll think this is their home and that they’re happy here; they won’t have any desire to leave. And we can’t force them.”
“But when they realize they’re living in a dreamworld, they’ll want to go back?” he asked.
“Not just that, but the dream is going to end really soon.” I explained about the six days. How at the end of them, they would be gone forever. How their time ended for good at the end of today.
“Then we haven’t got a moment to lose.” Tony held up the papers. “We show them these?”
“Yes. We need to remind them of their families, tell them their names, show them the photos. All it takes is a glimpse of home and I’m hopeful that they’ll remember everything. If you can help me find them, I’m happy to do the talking.”
“Of course. Let’s do it.”
Tony was still flipping through the papers. “Wait, there’s one missing,” he said. “A young woman, Lowenna. She’s not here.”
“No. She’s different.”
Tony tilted his head to the side. “You know, I thought she was. I didn’t remember her from the ship — but when I woke up here, she was with us. After the first few days, I didn’t question it. I didn’t question anything. But why no paperwork for her?”
I put my hand in my pocket and felt for the snow globe Lyle had given me. It was still there. Closing my hand around it, I replied, “I’ll look after her — if I can find her.”
“We’ll find her. We’ll find them all. Come on.” Tony folded up the paper I’d given him and put it in his pocket.
“Don’t do that,” I said.
“Don’t do what?”
I pointed at his pocket. “Keep it in your hand. You have to keep looking at it.”
“Why’s that?”
“If you don’t, you’ll forget again.”
Tony laughed. “Forget Olivia again? Never!”
“You’d be surprised. The magic of Atlantis is incredibly strong. Please, don’t risk it.”
Tony squinted at me for a moment, before nodding in agreement and pulling the paper out of his pocket. “OK,” he said, unfolding it and glancing at his wife’s photo again. “I won’t take anything for granted. Come on. I want to find my daughter.”
“Good. And we need to be quick,” I said. I checked the countdown on my watch: 08:17. Just over eight hours left! Almost a third of the time was already gone, and I’d found only one passenger. “The ship needs to leave in the next eight hours — or it will never get away.”
Tony was already hurrying. “I know where most of them hang out. We’ll find them.”
As we hurried across the square, a question repeated itself over and over in my mind.
Did we really stand a chance of winning this race against time?
But as we dipped through archways in walls that became tunnels through mountains, skipped over rivers on stepping-stones made of giant pearls, edged across bridges that turned into trampolines, and raced along cobblestone streets that twisted and turned like giant writhing snakes, I knew one thing.
The alternative was too terrible to even think about.
Tony was true to his word. He knew where most of the passengers were. An hour later, we’d found nine passengers and most of the crew, including the captain of the ship. There were just three passengers and one crew member still to find. And Lowenna. We hadn’t explained anything yet, either. Tony had just told everyone to come with us and that it was important.
We stopped for a break on a piece of headland overlooking a wide pink beach and a sparkling blue bay.
“Dad, are you going to explain what’s going on yet?” Tony’s daughter, Charlotte, asked.
Tony glanced at me and I nodded. He passed the papers around, and then, between us, we explained everything. I told them about Atlantis, about them being here because they’d been lost at sea, about what would happen at the end of today — and how this was their only chance to get away.
I watched their faces as, one by one, the truth of their “wonderful” lives in Atlantis dawned and they remembered their old lives — their real lives. As soon as they’d gotten over the shock of the truth, they wanted to find the other passengers and set sail as soon as possible.
At least, most of them did.
A young man who hadn’t spoken yet put up his hand.
“What is it, Alan?” Tony asked.
Alan waved his piece of paper at us and shrugged. “What if I don’t want to leave?” he asked.
“Don’t want to leave?” Tony repeated incredulously. “Have you been listening for the last half an hour? Do you know where you are? Do you remember your old life, your real life?”
Alan shrugged again. “Yes, on all counts,” he said flatly. He held up the photo on his piece of paper. “And yes, I completely remember the day my fiancée walked out on me. It was the same month that I lost my job, and a couple of days after our home was foreclose
d.”
No one spoke for a moment. The air stilled and tightened.
Eventually, as softly as a summer breeze, Alan added, “Why would I want to go back to that?”
One of the women went over to Alan and stroked his arm. “That’s awful,” she said. “You poor thing.”
“Thanks, Jenna,” Alan mumbled.
Tony frowned. “Alan, Atlantis isn’t what you think. It’s . . .”
Alan shook his head. “I’m sorry, guys. You go if you like. I’m staying here.”
I looked at Tony. Could we let Alan stay when we had the chance to help him get away? A chance that according to Lyle had virtually never happened before. A chance to choose life.
Tony spoke softly. “You’re not staying,” he said.
“I like it here!” Alan insisted. “I’ve never been so happy anywhere, never had so many friends, never —”
“Where are your friends now, Alan?” Tony asked. “Not us, or the people who came here after us. Where are the ones who came before us?”
Alan stared at him. “They . . .” His face clouded with confusion. “That’s a thought,” he murmured. “Where have they gone?”
“My dad’s right,” Charlotte said. “The group from the Eclipse — remember? The ship that got here a week before us. Anyone seen any of them lately?”
One of the older men spoke up. “None of those guys have been around for days, now that I think about it,” he said.
“What about the crew of that sailboat — what was it called?” Tony went on.
“The Blue Typhoon?” Charlotte offered.
“That’s it,” Tony replied. “Where are they? Gone. Those two canoeists? The guys from the racing yacht? The people from that fancy cruise ship? All of them gone. No one who arrived before us is here anymore.”
“But where are they, then?” Alan asked. “What happened to them?”
Jenna cleared her throat. “I think we all know in our hearts what happened to them. Think of the night the Eclipse guys went. They were here that evening — probably at their most cheerful, all of them. Then later that night, the sky had a whole lot more stars in it. Remember? We commented on it?”
A few in the group nodded, remembering something that Atlantis had since made them forget.
“I can’t be positive — but I think those stars were them,” Jenna went on. “All I know for sure is that the next morning, they were gone. Maybe there was some dust on the ground, maybe an extra flower bloomed that day for each of them. I don’t know. All I do know is that we never saw them again. The end of the road came for each of them — like it will come for us, too.”
“Jenna’s right. The same thing happened when the canoeists went,” Charlotte said. “I’d completely forgotten, but I remember it now. Two bright stars came out that night — lit up the whole island for an hour or two.”
“And at the end of today, you’ll be the same,” I said. “You won’t get to stay here anymore — any of you. You won’t have the choice to try to go home. This is your only chance.”
“You’ve heard her. In a few hours, it’s game over,” Tony said flatly. “That’s the truth of it. This here”— he waved his arms across the headland, across the bay, the island, all of it —“it’s a holding place. We’re nowhere. We’re between worlds. It’s an illusion. Come tonight, there’s no more between and no more Atlantis. You’ll be gone, and that’s the end of it. Alan, if you need me to spell it out for you, I will. At the end of today, time’s up. You’ll be dead.”
Alan’s face had drained of color.
“So. Your choice.” Tony stared at him. “Are you coming with us, or are we leaving you here to die alone?”
Alan didn’t speak for a moment. No one spoke. The air seemed to be stretched so tight, it felt as if it would splinter into pieces.
Eventually, Alan muttered, “I guess a crummy life is better than no life at all.”
I let out a breath. Thank goodness. I looked at my timer: 07:03. Almost five hours had passed; we had just seven hours left.
Tony went over and shook Alan’s hand. “Good man. We’ll look after you,” he promised.
“All right. Come on,” I said. “We need to find the others and get back to the ship.
“I bet I know where Alex and Phil are,” one of the women said. “There’s a garden they always go in the afternoons. And Gabi is Alex’s best friend. She might be with them. If not, they’ll probably know where to find her. I’ll go get them.”
“Great.” Tony said. He rifled through his papers and handed her three sheets. “Make sure you give them these.”
“And keep looking at the pictures of your own family on your way,” I added. “It’s easy to forget here.” Which, as I said it, reminded me. “What about Lowenna?” I asked.
The captain came over to me. “I’ll show you how to find her,” he said. “She’s with Miriam, my final crew member. There’s a park you can find when you know how. They’ll be there.”
Tony took charge. “OK, great. The captain can go with Emily. Jeanette is fetching the others. Everyone else, come with me. Get your stuff and we’ll head back to the ship together. Let’s all meet there, say, on the top deck in an hour?”
“Wait!” I yelled. Tony had reminded me of the final essential detail. Everyone turned to look at me.
“There’s one last thing,” I said. “You can’t take anything with you. Anything you got in Atlantis — clothes, food, jewelry, whatever it is — you must leave it behind.”
“Why’s that?” a young woman asked.
“If you attempt to leave Atlantis with something of Atlantis, the ship won’t be able to get away,” I explained.
As I said the words, I remembered that they applied to me, too. I pulled the garland from around my head, realizing as I did so that it hadn’t been just a gift to make me smile, it had been a way of helping to root me in Atlantis — to ease the transition, take away any memories that would remind me of what I’d lost, and keep me here. “Things like this,” I said. “Anything that comes from here, you have to leave it behind.”
“Darn it. That blows my idea of taking presents back for the grandkids,” one of the older men mumbled.
“Their present will be seeing their grandparents return alive, Louie,” his wife replied, nudging him and pointing at the beautiful gold watch on his arm. “That was from here, too. Off it goes.”
“Just leave it all here,” Tony said. “Someone else will have a nice treat when they go for a walk on the headland.”
I unclasped my diamond bracelet and put it on the ground. As I did, I sent a wish with it — that it would bring someone a feeling of warmth and happiness in their final days here. That it would bring a smile to the face of someone whose time really was up.
I checked my timer: 06:47. We still had nearly seven hours. “OK,” I said. “Let’s go.”
The captain and I left the square together. He told me to call him Phil. “I know a shortcut,” he said as he strode ahead. I had to run to keep up with him.
We left the square behind us, and I followed him up a tiny, winding street. Like all the other roads, it was cobblestone and quaint. On each side, gleaming white houses had wooden shutters and walls painted in pastel colors. They were so pretty that under any other circumstances, I would have wanted to take my time, strolling along and admiring each one.
Phil broke into my thoughts. “OK, are you ready for the shortcut?” he asked.
“I guess so,” I replied, wondering why I had to be ready. I was just following him, wasn’t I?
“See that wall at the top of the road?” he asked.
I looked ahead and saw that the road was blocked by a huge brick wall with a colorful mural painted on it.
“Oh.” I stopped walking. “Why are we going up here? It’s a dead end.”
“Look at the wall,” Phil urged me. “What do you see?”
I stared at the mural. “Um. A picture of a house with a ladder leaning against it. A man at the top of the ladder cl
eaning a window.” I studied it further. “Very lifelike, isn’t it?”
“Exactly. That was what I thought when I first saw it. It’s so lifelike that in fact . . .” Phil pointed at the wall. “You see the door right down at the bottom, near the base of the ladder?”
I looked where he was pointing. There was a bright-red door with a gleaming brass handle. It was so bright, it could have just been painted that day. “I see it.”
“You have to grab that handle — it’ll take you through.”
“But it’s not a real handle; it’s a painting,” I protested.
Phil just looked at me. “And this is Atlantis,” he said by way of explanation.
He was right. Much weirder things than walking through a picture of a door in a wall had happened since I’d arrived here. We continued walking.
“You have to be confident. Walk up to the wall, reach out for the door handle, and it will come to life in your hand. As soon as you feel it tingle, turn it and the door will open. Ready?”
“I guess.”
The captain stopped. “Hold on! I tried it with someone else the other day and it didn’t work. I went through but my friend didn’t.”
“You think it might not work for me, either?”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. I’ve tested it a few times. It will let only one person through. You go. I’ll wait here for a few minutes, make sure you’ve really gone. If you don’t come back, I’ll assume it’s worked and I’ll see you back on the ship. Are you ready?”
My heart quickened. Not just from the fear of literally walking into a wall, but because of what was on the other side. Was I actually going to meet Lowenna?
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I said. And then I strode toward a brick wall, reached out for a picture of a brass handle, and walked straight through a door that a moment ago had been a few splashes of paint.
I opened my eyes and gazed around me. I was surrounded by the most stunning beauty. To one side of me, a field of flowers spread in swirling patterns as far as I could see: bright red, deep blue, dazzling yellow, pure white — they were everywhere. The air was full of their scent, too. It smelled as though someone had invented the ultimate, perfect perfume.
