by J C Gilbert
“Grandma, do you know what to do about anxiety?”
The question felt heavy and hung in the air for a moment.
She smiled kindly. “I have had my fair share of nerves over the years. They used to tease me about it no end. They used to call me the wall garden.”
“Wall garden?”
“Like a wallflower that takes its job more seriously.”
I nodded and wondered who called her that.
“I was terrible,” she continued, “couldn’t speak to anyone I didn’t already know, and even then I fumbled over my words.”
“Sounds familiar,” I said.
“It's rough, dear. I know.”
“But you got over it, right? You talk to the customers here all the time.”
Grandma laughed. “No, dear. That's not quite how it works. I get nerves now just the same as ever I did.”
“Really?” My heart sank. I was kind of banking on Hank taking a permanent holiday by the time I was Grandma’s age.
“Don’t look so solemn. I wouldn't get rid of my nerves even if I could.”
“Why on earth not?”
“It's just your body’s way of telling you that what you are doing is important, that's all. Once I realized I was nervous because I wanted to make friends things got much easier. I started to see my nerves as a sort of a compass pointing me in the right direction. After all, if people weren’t important to me then why on earth would I care what they think?”
“I hate it.”
“I know, dear. There is one way you could get rid of them, but it comes at a great cost.”
“What's that? I’d do anything,” I said, leaning forward in my seat.
“Never do anything important.”
“Oh.”
I stared out of the bus as the shops and people zipped by. I thought of all the things in my life that made me anxious and tried to match them up in my mind with all the things that I thought were important.
Something stirred deep inside me. Some old sadness that I didn't even know was there ached and throbbed. Tears welled up in my eyes.
I thought of all the things Hank had taken from me. I couldn't go places, I let people down, I couldn't be myself, I was perpetually in discomfort.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Pretty much everything in my life made me anxious. If Grandma was right, then I guess that had to mean that my life was very very important to me. I had spent so much of my life running from anxiety, running and hiding. Avoidance completely dominated me. Whenever Hank turned up, I just did whatever I could to get him to go again. I was a defective friend, a defective daughter, and a defective all-around human being.
There was a parallel dimension version of Alex who didn't run from her feelings, and I was killing her every day. I was at a funeral, and it was the funeral for my own soul.
I got off the bus and wandered home. The house was empty. I collapsed on the couch, lying unmoving for quite a while.
Sometimes when I’m really upset I just sort of freeze. Like inside and out. I lie awake and just wait for time to be over. Sometimes I think that I don't really exist, or if I do exist that I don't have any free will. I imagine what it is like to not be able to move and then I do that.
Today something different happened.
As I lay, a small fire kindled from somewhere in the depths of my heart. I thought about Mom, and I thought about the job she had tried to set up with Uncle Jack. She would be home soon. I was going to get told off for not being home for the day trip. At least I could do this one thing.
I got up from the couch and took a deep breath. I was going to do it. I was going to call my uncle and ask about the job.
I felt strange. There was a rush of power within me. I could feel Hank waking up inside me, but I didn't stop the feeling. I let it build.
For once I was going to be in control of my life, not Hank.
I found Uncle Jack’s number on a post-it note by the phone. Mom had left it to be found. I grabbed it, taking back control.
I might only have a few minutes. I picked up the house phone and began to dial. It felt strange holding a land-line telephone. I literally had no idea when I had last held one. The buttons were large and awkward and beeped as I entered each number.
I felt a rush of anticipation, my heart beating hard in my chest.
The phone rang once.
There was a thud.
The front door closed.
“Alex!” called Mom, “you home?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I froze for a moment, not knowing what to do.
I looked at the phone in my hand and pressed the button to hang up. As fast as I dared, I placed the phone back on its cradle. I ran upstairs to my room, dodging my parents as I did. The bedroom door closed behind me. I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes.
My chance passed me by.
I didn’t want to stick around. I couldn't handle Mom today. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Darcy’s message.
OK, I typed in the reply box.
I hesitated, held my breath, and hit send.
Soon I was walking down the street toward Darcy’s house. My hands and feet felt numb with anxiety. It was like I was watching myself walk from somewhere outside of my body.
I had known where Darcy lived for years now, information gleaned from social osmosis. It only took a few moments to walk there. I arrived at his house and was just about to step up to the front door and knock when I heard him call.
“Hey, over here!”
I turned about to see Darcy leaning out the window of a car across the road. I walked over.
“I’m not getting in a car with you,” I said bluntly.
“It's private,” he said.
“Do you even have your license?”
“Well no, but we don't have to drive anywhere. Here, you can hold the keys.” He pulled them out of the ignition and handed them to me.
“Fine, but please don't be a serial killer, OK?”
“Promise.”
I stepped into his car and shut the door. It was the sort of car that people only ever drove because someone had given it to them. It smelled of stale cigarette smoke.
“OK, so what is this about?” I asked.
“It's about today in detention. You weren't in that room when I got back, and yet somehow you were there when it was time to leave.”
“I can just be really quiet sometimes,” I said. I tried to make myself sound as honest as possible, but really I suck at lying.
“You weren't there. I would have noticed.”
“What, do you think that I was invisible? Come on.”
“Were you?”
“What?”
“Were you invisible?”
“No.”
“Look, I might need your help, but I need to know that I can trust you.”
“Who says I wanna help?”
“Because there are lives at stake and you are not a dick.”
An uneasy feeling stirred within me. I had known Darcy by sight for many years, and he never said so much as two words to me. Now he was acting all intense. My body seized up.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“You are not serious.”
“I am. Look, I was in the detention room the whole time, OK?”
“No, you weren't.”
“Just leave me alone, would you?”
I popped open the car door.
“Fine!” he yelled after me.
As I walked home, my thoughts drifted to Lilly. Life was all too much for me to handle on my own. I had to tell her about The Library sooner or later. Why not tell her now?
Once home I went straight upstairs, avoiding Mom.
I lay back on my bed and swiped the passcode into my phone. I just stared at the screen for a moment. What would I actually say to Lilly? It was too hard.
I placed the phone on my bedside table and opened Alice.
The cat was nowhere to be seen. It was another f
ine day out of the hanging window. The cat was probably out bounding through long grass or sleeping someplace in the sun.
Elaine’s book was on the shelf where I left it. Taking a deep breath, I opened to the first chapter. Soon I was falling into the book. Loose pages fluttered and spun around me.
I landed on an earthen road.
A dense fog hung all about me.
I was in some sort of town, but one unlike any I had seen before. The buildings towered, their walls made of rough-hewn stone, colonized by moss and vines. Wooden shutters were closed tight against the damp. The roofs were thatched and weatherworn.
It looked like I had gone back in time.
The street was dirty brown and littered with debris. There was an old wooden cart filled with hay leaning against the wall of a derelict house.
A noise drew my attention up the street. It sounded like people were running. They shouted as their steps clattered.
“Get out of sight!” someone hissed.
Startled, I spun around, looking for who had spoken.
“Here!” they said. There was a person underneath the hay cart, blending into the shadow.
“Elaine?”
“Get over here!”
I hurried over and crouched down next to her. Her black hair tumbled down her back, thick and wavy. She was wearing a rough cut black dress. A brown rucksack was slung over one shoulder.
She pulled me in close. It felt weird being so close to a stranger. The clatter of running feet came closer and closer. Soon they were right upon us.
“Halt!” said a male voice, deep and gruff.
The clatter stopped.
Peering out through a gap in the cart, I could see that they were soldiers. There were about six of them standing there, alert. They were dressed in dull plate armor and looked like something out of a live action roleplay convention. They were each carrying a long spear-like weapon and a wooden shield.
I tried to quiet my breathing. All was silent but for the steady drum of Elaine’s heart.
“Alright, keep moving,” said the voice.
The soldiers marched on.
After a moment Elaine pushed me away and stepped out into the road.
“Who were they?” I asked.
“They are hunting me. We need to keep moving.”
“Sure,” I said.
“How did you know my name?” she asked as she led me down through the foggy streets.
“I just knew. I don’t know.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Psychic then? Well, I’m not. Who are you?”
“Alex.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Never mind. We have to get out of this city.”
We hurried through the streets. We had not gone far before Elaine pulled me against a wall. She looked about, eyes wide, and then hastened on.
Soon we came to an open area. There was a large body of water, a lake maybe. It was bordered by a cobbled path and a low wall. Fog concealed the far side.
All was silent, and no one was around.
“Is this place always so empty?” I asked.
“These days, yes. People have moved away from Avonheim since my sister disappeared.” Elaine’s eyes never seemed to stay still. She was as alert as a rabbit in an open field.
“Avonheim?”
“Yes. The Kingdom of Avonheim. My sister was its ruler, Lady Tabatha.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was taken by the sorceress, Vicious. I need to get her back. Come, we mustn't linger.”
We continued along the lakefront, staying low. My legs started to burn with fatigue.
“Where are we going?”
“We have to get to the city wall. There should be a boat waiting at the river moat.”
“Can we stop a moment?” I asked.
“Why?”
“My legs.”
“Really?” her tone was laced with sarcasm. “Ignore it.”
She pulled me on. It seemed to me that she quickened her pace after that. She hurried down a narrow street, and I followed the best I could. My lungs were burning now.
“Hurry!” she said in a sharp whisper.
“I,” gasp, “can’t.”
“I see ‘em!” bellowed a voice.
We both spun around to see a tall figure up the road behind us, pointing our way. A sea of spears gathered behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The soldiers didn't wait long. Soon they were hurtling toward us at an alarming rate. “Now can you run?” hissed Elaine, grabbing my arm.
And run I did, dodging discarded carts and abandoned market stalls.
We continued down the road for a time, the soldiers gaining on us. We ducked down a lane, out onto another street, and then down another alley. The whole city was a maze, a ghost town of stone and fog.
The guards clattered behind us. Somehow they were still gaining on us, even as we weaved. “We are almost there,” called Elaine over her shoulder.
We came to a wall. It was tall enough for its height to be concealed by the fog. Elaine lifted aside a crude wooden door behind which was a tunnel. We plunged into the darkness.
There was a faint light ahead. I couldn't see where my feet were landing. There were pools of water on the ground and soon my shoes were soaked through.
Behind us, the soldiers found the tunnel entrance. Their shouts bounced and echoed all around.
As we got closer to the end of the tunnel, it became apparent that there was a figure there, waiting for us. Its eyes glowed faintly in the darkness. Elaine seemed unconcerned. When we reached the figure, I found that it was enormous, towering over us by several feet. It stepped aside and allowed us to pass.
A small wooden boat bobbed gently in the shallows of a river. Mangrove shoots speckled the mud.
“Get in,” said Elaine.
My feet sank and squelched in the mud. I held the side of the boat down and scrambled in, pulling in half the river as I did. Elaine followed with significantly more grace. She seized the oars and started to row.
I looked back toward the tunnel. The towering figure had stepped back in place, blocking the tunnel exit.
The fog swirled around us.
“Will they be OK?” I asked.
“Who? Oh, the big guy? Yeah, he can look after himself.”
There was a scream and a shout. Through the fog, I could just make out movement, but could not see what was happening. There was a loud splash as something substantial plunged into the water.
Elaine paddled on.
Soon the sounds of the skirmish faded, and we were nearing the opposite side of the river moat.
Once we were out of the boat, I took off my shoes and spilled out the water and mud. This would probably take quite a bit of explaining to Mom.
“We should be safe here for a moment,” said Elaine, collapsing onto the stony shore.
“The fog?”
“Yeah. It's a mixed bag for the citadel.”
“It seems strange to me,” I said.
“It's a curse.”
“It's not so bad.”
“I mean a literal curse. The council placed it on the citadel to prevent the goblin raids. It worked for a while too.”
“Goblin raids?”
“Yeah, vicious creatures. These hills are swarming with them. You will find that most of the villages in these parts are either walled or empty.
I peered suspiciously at the woods which hung all around.
“I wouldn’t let them worry you.”
“How come?”
“I dearly love killing goblins.”
“Oh.”
“Look,” she sat up, “I am going to need your help getting my sister back.”
“My help? I don’t know what I can do.”
“Before I was imprisoned by the idiots in there I heard a prophecy that a phantom would help me get Tabatha back before it was too late.”
“You think I’m a phantom?”
“Please. You appear and disappear at random. You dress in strange clothes. You don’t seem to know where you are. What else would you call that?”
“Maybe I’m a ghost.”
She picked up a stone and threw it at me. It struck my arm. “Ouch,” I said. It stung.
“Not a ghost. Now, will you help me?”
I looked at the ground, dodging her gaze.
“My sister was the ruler in these lands. She had special powers which helped keep the peace. I was there when the sorceress Vicious transformed her into a bird and stole her away.”
“Like, a literal bird?”
“Yes, and it was dreadful. I went after her but lost the trail. When I went back to the citadel to see if there was anything which would indicate where they had gone I was seized by the commander of the city watch. He was convinced that I was responsible for the disappearance of Lady Tabatha. It was exceedingly frustrating. As annoying as this was, the set back did lead me to discover the sorceresses trail. She has taken refuge in the Hollow Hills.”
“I don't think I will be much help.”
“That may be so, but I am not one to ignore prophecy. Just help me get my sister back before it’s too late. If we don’t get to her soon, then she may well be eaten. Vicious is like that.”
“That's dreadful!”
“So, will you come along, or what?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I emerged from Elaine’s story to find the cat staring at me with steady eyes. I closed the book and looked at it, tracing my finger over the face embossed on the cover, trying to figure out what I should do. I thought of the two little girls who had been cast out of their village.
I wanted to help them.
Could Elaine be trusted? She was a little rough around the edges, to be sure. One thing was for certain, I didn't want to be the person who judged her before I knew her.
Who knows, maybe I could be of some help?
I didn't see my family until the next morning. When I came down for breakfast, I could feel the tension in the air. There was a storm brewing, and it could hit at any moment.
“We went to the fairy forest yesterday,” said Jonny as he eagerly shoveled an oversized piece of pancake into his mouth.
“I know you did,” I said, “did you see any sign of the fairies?”
