He had not found any ticks on her, though he had seen a pair of moles on the inside of her thigh that he probably wouldn’t have ever known about otherwise; at first he had thought the brown spots were ticks and had started to reach for them before he realized they were harmless. But, as she had pointed out, they both were left wearing not much more than they would have if they’d worn fashionable swimsuits at the beach. And after their mutual inspections, they’d pulled their clothes back on and moved forward without further mention. But now Kendel was thinking about the lovely girl, when he should have only been thinking about Liza.
Flora was a friend, he told himself, and there was no better friend in his life. He didn’t want to screw that up by thinking of her with any inappropriate intentions, attentions he wasn’t completely sure she’d be likely to reciprocate.
He walked on, and after several minutes, began to think about the surrounding circumstances of the world he was in, instead of the world he had left behind. He had a stash of coins, and he had a destination, but he didn’t know whether he was going in the right direction, and he didn’t have a weapon. He felt naked without a weapon – defenseless in a way he never felt back in his own reality. He decided that a knife would be – handy, small, lightweight, but still handy. A sword would be better he concluded, especially if it were the enchanted blue Sword of Justice that Miriam had lent him on several occasions. Genniae had recited a legend that said someone who received the sword three times would be its master, but Kendel had used it three times, and it had still left him.
The best weapon of all might be the staff, he decided. It didn’t look like a weapon, it had a long reach, and he felt that he had some ability to use it. If it had been the particular staff he had inherited from the second-sun witch, it would have also provided a channel that eased his ability to release the turbulent energy that swirled inside his soul. He couldn’t feel the energy as he walked down the forest road, but he had checked, and it was there. Further, he held and used the power just minutes before while he’d been rescuing Liza, so he knew he still had it.
The staff was probably either back in Gan’s village or else in the hands of Parker, wherever the squire was. It might be worth a visit to the village if he happened to find he wasn’t too far out of the way of reaching the village. Perhaps Parker would even be there.
And what a thought that was! Kendel wondered what the response would be if he came face-to-face with the squire whose body Kendel had landed in and controlled for several weeks. Of course, Kendel would know who Parker was, while Parker wouldn’t know who Kendel was when he appeared in his own shape, the body that was the true home of his personality.
Would he tell Parker, and Agata, who he was? He doubted it, Kendel acknowledged. Perhaps circumstances would make it possible, but that seemed unlikely. Parker wouldn’t be pleased to see him.
He stopped suddenly, as he spotted a dead sapling growing in the forest, several feet off the road. It looked to be the perfect height to be a walking staff. He plunged in through the roadside underbrush, thinking momentarily about ticks and then about Flora, until he reached the sapling. The poor young tree had tried to grow in a heavily shaded area beneath the mature trees all around and had not been able to grow tall enough to claim a sufficient share of sunlight to survive.
Kendel was intrigued by the trunk. A vine had wrapped itself around the tree and twined its way upward in a binding, circular fashion that made the staff of wood appear to have a serpent climbing it. Kendel grasped the trunk and pulled then pushed, feeling the give that the decayed roots loosened, so that in a few moments the tree began to lift, and he pulled it free from the earth, then flipped it over.
There was a heavy bulb at the new top, a dirt-encrusted bulge of the former root ball. The wood felt healthy, not yet subject to rot, and the staff stood nearly six feet tall after Kendel snapped the thinnest portions off the end. Satisfied with his new tool, he knocked the heavy end against a nearby tree trunk to loosen the dirt clods that still clung to it, then returned to the road and continued to walk, at a slightly faster pace, feeling a small sense of accomplishment for having secured a staff.
Chapter 3
“Rupert, I can’t join you tonight, I’m sorry,” Flora was on the phone to the date she was breaking. She’d just hung up the phone after receiving a call from Liza, and her mind was racing with plans to travel back to Bedford. Kendel had found a way to return to the land of monsters, goddesses, and magic, and Flora intended to rejoin him.
“No, it’s a friend. The boy I was unconscious with; he’s gone missing in a river, and I want to be there. I hope you understand,” she pleaded.
“What do you mean, you’ll just go see your wife tonight?” Flora’s tone grew icy. “You told me you had already filed for a divorce! You said it was all over but signing the papers!”
“You’ve decided to reconcile? Last week? Then why weren’t you the one calling me to cancel this date? You’re a loser!” Flora angrily pressed the red button that ended the call, then resisted the temptation to break her phone, and instead flung it across her living room.
She’d accepted the invitation for the date from the older director because she felt she needed to go on a date. She’d broken up with her last boyfriend weeks before the filming of “Ruler’s Sacrifice” had begun. Given that length of time, and then during the weeks she’d been in the alternate reality with Kendel, and then the weeks since returning to the world, she’d grown anxious to spend some time in a setting that would let her enjoy being a feminine element in a couple.
And then there was the whole, complicated Kendel situation itself, the strange, intense, crazy affection that she and Kendel felt for one another without feeling it become an overtly physical set of desires, to that point. The two of them seemed to be drawn to one another with more intensity than she believed she’d ever felt for any boyfriend in the past.
And Kendel was on track to date Liza.
Or had been on track, until that night.
Flora got up from her seat on the sofa, strode across the room and picked up her phone, then called the airline as she went back to her bedroom to take off the clothing she’d donned for the date. She was going to need more practical clothes.
“Can you make a reservation for me for a flight tonight to either Indianapolis or Louisville, whichever has the earlier arrival?” she asked the concierge service for the expensive metal credit card she carried. Minutes later, as she was beginning to pack her cosmetics for the trip, the reservation was made for a seat in first class on a flight to Indianapolis. She hurried to assemble a basic set of clothes, then hurried out to her car with the bag in her hand and drove herself to the airport so that she could go to Bedford and find a way to comfort those who were there mistakenly mourning Kendel.
And after comforting them, she expected to find a way to disappear just as mysteriously as he had.
Chapter 4
By noon on Saturday, a full-scale recovery operation was underway along the river, as a helicopter, boats, and men on foot were moving along the river and its banks, trying to find Kendel’s body. Flora arrived at Kendel’s home in her rental car and asked the relatives who were gathered if she could see Mrs. Donne, explaining to the unknowing guardians of Rowena only that she was a friend of Kendel’s.
She was admitted to the interior of the house, and when Rowena saw and immediately recognized her, the pair embraced tearfully. Although she was sure that Kendel wasn’t truly dead, she nevertheless felt genuine grief for the pain that Rowena and so many others were suffering in the episode, and she cried real tears as she and Rowena clung to one another.
“You have to stay here, would you please?” Rowena asked Flora, who said yes, and then let one of Rowena’s cousins carry her bag into the house for her. A half hour later Flora was off to visit Liza.
The Bedford girl was still in a state of shock, in her home with several friends keeping her company and keeping a watch on her. She’d been diagnosed with a concus
sion from when she’d landed atop the floating log in the river, and her lungs were still recovering from the water she’d inhaled during her calamitous time in the river.
“Flora! You came all this way already! You really loved him, didn’t you?” Liza sobbed as the two young women embraced. “I don’t know why he ever wanted to date me when he had someone as beautiful as you,” Liza cried incoherently.
“You know he and I are only friends. He talked about you,” Flora replied as she held Liza. “You were the only girl he ever mentioned.
“But let’s not give up hope,” Flora thought to add. “Maybe he’ll turn up okay.” Flora was sure that he wouldn’t, but she was also sure that his body wouldn’t be found in the river either. She was only sure that she was on her way to try to rejoin him.
She pondered whether to ask Liza to show her the spot where Kendel had disappeared. She wanted to see it, to evaluate it, to learn if there were clues about the way to follow him to Miriam’s magical land. But as she held Liza, she realized the girl couldn’t be asked to go back to the spot of the apparent tragedy.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Flora asked.
“Thank you for coming to see me. Kendel would have been glad to know you’re here. He really liked those phone calls you had while he was running,” Liza squeezed Flora for a long moment, then released her. “Will you stay for the events?”
Flora delayed responding for a moment until she realized that Liza was asking about but avoiding saying ‘funeral’.
“I’ll be here for a few days, if Rowena can stand to put up with me,” Flora assured Liza. “Or I may get a hotel room if the circus follows me here,” she referred to the paparazzi who she suspected would be arriving in Bedford within a day or so.
Flora left Liza and the other girls who were in the room, and Liza’s mother thanked the actress for coming to visit. Flora went back to the Donne residence and slept a short nap to make up for the short, fitful night she’d spent on the airplane. Then she called her agent.
“Where are you?” Jane asked as soon as she answered the call. “How did things go with Rupert?”
“I didn’t see him,” Flora explained. “I got a call; Kendel was in an accident last night. I’m in Bedford again.”
“Oh, Flora, I’m sorry!” Jane’s voice was genuinely filled with emotion.
“He didn’t really die though,” Flora immediately explained. “He sent a message to me; he told Liza to tell me he was going back to see Miriam. He’s gone back to the other land somehow.”
“Flora? Are you sure?” there was a studied neutrality in Jane’s voice.
Liza told me he specifically told her to tell me he was going to see Miriam. Those were his last words, and then he disappeared,” Flora spoke insistently.
There was a knock at the door.
“Someone’s here; I have to go,” Flora told her agent.
“Flora, listen, don’t do anything or say anything about this. Keep calm and quiet. We’ll talk when you get back here, okay?” Jane spoke emphatically.
“Yes, sure, of course. Goodbye,” Flora ended the call and answered the door.
“Rowena thought you might like to join us for a bite of late lunch,” one of the cousins offered. He was a nearly elderly man, one who was laid back and gave the impression of being content with his place in life.
The meal was served at the dining room table, shared with Rowena, four relatives, and Flora. It was a casserole.
“Get ready,” Rowena warned Flora, “we’re going to have fifteen casseroles for the next week. You’re never going to be so glad to leave here just for the sake of having something else to eat!” she smiled with her reddened eyes. They all sat around the table, where Rowena and Flora told the others about the day of sightseeing they had enjoyed in Los Angeles after Flora and Kendel’s recovery.
Rowena had enjoyed the day of touring more than Flora had realized, as the girl listened to the bereaved mother regale the others around the table with talk about all the dated tourist stops they had seen, sights that seemed relevant and noteworthy to the older generation.
The conversation wound down, and the gathering broke up, leaving Flora sitting alone at the table with Tim, the cousin who had fetched her to lunch in the first place. Flora had nothing to do for the afternoon, and decided to ask a favor of Tim.
“I wanted to see the place where everything happened to Kendel. Can you give me directions to get there?” she asked.
Tim paused and appeared to stare down at his paunch for several seconds. “I could give you directions, but you’d never be able to follow them. The roads down in that part of the county aren’t easy to figure out. I could take you down there though,” he offered. “But are you really sure you want to go see it? It’s just a stretch of riverbank.”
“I want to go,” Flora quickly asserted.
Tim gave a shrug and reached in his pocket to get his keys.
“I’ve got a rental car we can take,” Flora offered.
“Let’s take my pickup,” Tim said. “I can drive it easier than trying to give you directions.”
Fifteen minutes later, as the truck plunged through another stretch of potholed gravel road on the lane that sloped down towards the river valley, Flora was satisfied that the truck had been the better option to take. She held on tightly to the handle above the passenger door as Tim maneuvered them towards a parking area visible below, one where a trio of police cars still remained while the search for Kendel’s body continued.
The police were opposed to allowing Tim and Flora to get out of the rusty Chevrolet truck until Flora pled her case through the open window.
“I’m a friend and I came all the way from California,” she explained.
“Hinkle, do you know who that is?” one officer asked another in a low voice. Ten minutes later, after taking selfies with all the officers, Flora and Tim walked past the bed of coals from the bonfire to visit the place where the rope from the swing remained. Flora stood and looked at the tree and the rope and imagined the exuberance and joy the group must have experienced, right up to the moment that disaster erupted. It looked like an idyllic spot to be a carefree teenager, she thought wistfully.
“The policeman said Kendel rescued Liza about fifty yards down river,” Tim spoke up after minutes of standing silently.
“Could you show me about where that would be?” Flora asked.
Tim walked to the edge of the low bluff, then awkwardly scrambled down to the sandy riverside below, and watched Flora nimbly hop down.
“Oh, to be young again,” he sighed with a smile, and the pair proceeded to walk among the sand and rocks and driftwood bleaching in the sunlight until Tim stopped near where the river began to curve and the sandy beach stretched further away from the river bank.
“About here, I guess,” Tim mumbled.
Flora looked across the water intently, searching for some sign or clue that might show the way to leave the world and go back to rejoin Kendel. It was a problem that Cousin Tim was present, but there would be some way to deal with that, Flora was sure. The key was to find the route to the world of magic.
The water was flickering with sparkles of light where the river rippled alongside the bank, but there was nothing in the water – no glow or color or indications of magic. No indication that Liza had been drowning, and Kendel had saved her, then disappeared.
She turned and looked inland. The sandy shore she stood on was covered in footprints and boot prints; it provided the evidence of the tense moments from the night before. Above the sand was the earthen bank, rising a few feet, and upon it there was a verge of weeds that blended into a line of trees. But there was no sign of a magical portal.
Flora’s eyes studied the scene, as she slowly circled about sure that there had to be something that Kendel had left for her. She circled around until her field of vision found Tim, standing silently, staring at her, then staring down the river, traces of moisture creeping out of the corner of his eye.
/> “Thank you for bringing me here,” Flora told him. She found that her voice was husky, not because of her frustration at the lack of a sign, but because she suddenly realized the pain and sense of loss that Tim was feeling as he looked at the spot where he believed his young cousin had died a heroic death.
Flora hugged Tim tightly. “We can go back now. I’m sorry to make you come here,” she told him.
He shook his head. “No miss, it was good. It meant something. You know, a girl’s life was saved here. We can be proud of Kendel for doing that.”
They walked back to the truck in silence, and waved at the policemen before Tim drove them along the back roads, through a small, shrinking town that was only a collection of a decaying homes and deserted, decaying buildings, and then minutes later, they were back at the Donne’s home.
Flora sat in Kendel’s room later that afternoon, wondering what she needed to do. Rowena had decided to wait a few days to see what the river recovery found before she held a memorial service, and Flora felt anchorless, not in the right place but not sure where the right place was. She was invited to Liza’s home for dinner that night, and the following morning she went to church with Rowena, greeting many people who all believed she had been Kendel’s girlfriend.
The paparazzi were waiting when she and Rowena left the church, taking pictures that forced Flora to conclude she needed to return to California until either the memorial service was held or a door opened to show her how to return to Palatenland. She used the excuse of the paparazzi to justify her departure, visited Liza to say goodbye, and drove back to the airport in Indianapolis that afternoon.
There had to be a way to rejoin Kendel. She just needed to think and wait.
The Blinded Journey Page 2
