Out of Nowhere

by William Cali

  “Nonsense, it’s as if I was never wounded at all,” Hanar said.

  “Where is Riven anyway?” Pent asked. “We’ve been here for a while.”

  “He could be anywhere, handling some kind of emergency,” Ellie said. “Or he could just be going out for a stroll. I don’t keep tabs on him, and he’s entitled to his own personal time.”

  Pent nodded. “That’s true. I guess we were off doing our personal stuff when this happened.” He recalled what Hanar had said about her music. “What do you do? I mean, in your personal time?”

  “Ah!” She clapped her hands together. “It’s a shame I don’t have my strings with me! I wasn’t sure if he was playing games with me, but Riven had said that you come from another world entirely. Is that true?” Pent nodded, not wanting to elaborate on his life story. “It seemed so hard to believe, but looking at you now… I’ve never met anyone like you before.” She sighed, “Another world, that’s so exciting! Is there music in that world of yours, Pent?”

  “Of course.” Pent hadn’t thought about music much during his time in Somerville. “Probably really different from what you’re used to though.” Think I’m gonna have to wait a few centuries for anyone to come up with rap music here.

  “Then I don’t have to explain the wonder and magic of music to you. It’s always an incredible release every time I clutch my strings. Something comes over me when I hold them, some kind of force takes over. There’s nothing like it. I only wish I had someone to share this with. I can play for the village, sure, but it would be nice if someone else understood what it’s like to make this music.”

  “Yes, if only. It must be a daunting prospect learning a skill like that.” Hanar cleared his throat, and Pent forced himself not to laugh.

  Instead, he said, “Ellie, if you’re so passionate about this, then why not leave the doctoring to Riven? You could focus on music instead of trying to wear two hats.”

  “Two hats…” She nodded. “Ha, that’s very clever. Does everyone from your world talk as you do?” She grinned at Pent before continuing, “I love music, don’t misunderstand me. But I want to help people too. And also…” She raised her hands up, showing off all of her fingers. “The strings help. They help me keep my fingers calm and controlled when they really need to be.”

  “That’s very considerate of you,” Pent said, “It seems like you really care about the people here.”

  “Of course. This is my home, I would do anything I could to help the people here.” She smiled again, radiant in her passion. Pent could tell she really meant it. “There’s no greater joy than that. Above dressing wounds and above making music, helping everyone here is the best I can ask for.”

  Pent was nodding along with everything the doctor’s assistant was saying when he noticed someone approaching the entrance to Riven’s house. It was one of the farmers, the one named Marall. He was clutching his leg, a sharp look on his face. “Looks like you have another patient coming.”

  “It looks like you’re right. I’ll have to attend to this.” As Hanar and Pent were leaving, she called out, “Come to the town square tonight. I’ll be sure to play something for you!”

  “I’ll be there, you can count on that.” Pent felt himself grinning like a fool as he walked away, Hanar at his side.

  * * *

  That evening, Pent made his way to the town square as Ellie had asked. Over half the town had assembled there to see her play it seemed. Several of the villagers were holding torches and candles, and a large flame was roaring in the center. The night’s sky was littered with stars, but everyone was focused on Ellie. She sat in a roughly carved wooden chair, holding a string instrument that looked like a bigger violin. Too big to be one of those, though, and definitely too small to be a bass.

  Pent scanned the crowd for Hanar, but he couldn’t find his friend, so he stood next to Mother Lyle instead.

  “This is some turnout,” Pent said. “I don’t think I’ve seen so many of y’all in one spot before.”

  “There are only a few events that would bring this many people out,” Lyle said. “Ellie can do it. Gilbrand could too, unfortunately.”

  “Gilbrand?” Pent pictured the knight Lemen had described. Him taking Lemen’s booze is an event here?

  Lyle shook her head, melancholy settling over her features. “You’ll meet him someday if you stay here long enough. But no, short of sleeping or brooding, there’s not much else to do at night here.”

  Pent glanced around once again.

  “Have you seen Hanar? I figured he wouldn’t want to miss this.”

  “I’d assume he’s doing more of the latter. Brooding over that horn of his.”

  “You know about that, too?”

  She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. It was a delicate act, more delicate and feminine than he was used to seeing from Lyle.

  “I won’t deny that my dear brother has taken a liking to you. I’ve never seen him so excitable to spend time with someone else. But I’ve known him for his entire life, and there are few secrets between us.” She turned to Pent and smirked. “Who do you think taught him how to make the horn?”

  “Talk about wearing a lot of hats…” Pent muttered to himself. Lyle eyed him curiously before turning back to Ellie.

  A haunting and somber melody drifted over the square as Ellie began plucking the strings. The music lulled the crowd, who watched with an air as somber as the song. Soon, though, she began to pick up the pace, quickly increasing the tempo of the mournful tune into something wild and fun, working her fingers over the strings in a feverish jig. It was not the kind of music Pent was used to, or even used to appreciate. But here, watching this dark-haired beauty conjure music under the star-filled sky, it was amazing. He felt like he was in a high-class solo artist concert, even though he was just standing on a dirt patch. Momma, if you could see where I’m at now. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and sway his head from side to side.

  Pent pictured himself in a giant concert hall. He was wearing a black suit and tie, and his mother was next to him in her Sunday best. Inexplicably, Hanar was on his other side, wearing the same dusty tunic he always saw him in. The concert hall was filled to the brim with people he knew, both from his old life and his new. And in the center of the stage sat Ellie, playing her wonderful music for all to hear.

  He opened his eyes and saw that the rest of the villagers had fallen into their own rhythm. Lyle was swaying back and forth. Riven was tapping his fingers on his leg in time with the music. Everyone was enjoying in their own way. And then, as soon as it started, the music faded out. Ellie stood up and thanked the crowd for their attention, and they all let out a cheer.

  The crowd began to clear out. Pent had hoped that Hanar would have joined them towards the end, but he didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight. Ellie caught his eye, and he walked towards her, grinning.

  Just as Pent opened his mouth to call out to her, Riven stepped into his view. The doctor was waving him down, demanding his attention. Pent stifled a groan, but said, “How’s it going, doc?”

  “Quite well. How have you settled in to our town? Are you thinking about staying?”

  Pent spared a glance at Ellie. “Yeah. I’m leaning towards it. It’s a nice place. Some nice people here.”

  Riven nodded slowly, eyes scanning the crowd around them. “A beautiful night for music,” he mused.

  “Your apprentice sure is talented. She helped out me and Hanar earlier today, too. He was bleeding like a stuck pig, and she patched him up.”

  “Yes, well, she is someone who always has the best interests of others in her heart.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he continued his search. “It does not appear that the chief has joined us. What a pity.”

  Pent frowned. He hadn’t even noticed the missing chief. I wonder if he’s brooding over an instrument, too. “I’m sure he’s busy with something.” Hoping to change the subject, he said, “By the way, Hanar said you aren’t from Somerville. Some kind of village up
north?”

  “Oh ho.” Riven chuckled. “Hanar thinks himself a traveler, but he doesn’t understand as much of the world as he thinks. To call Vinalhaven a village is absurd. It is a vast city, the grandest in all the world.” He met Pent’s eye for just a moment. “If I was to wager a bet, it is the only city of its type to still exist. Not many settlements have survived through the past two ages.”

  Pent listened intently. A big city? Might be my shot at finding a way home. He spared another glance at Ellie and frowned. “If it’s such a happening city, why did you come here?”

  “We all have our reasons for where we lay roots, do we not? You could say I’m like my assistant. I like to help people.”

  “Because you’re a doctor?”

  Riven hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yes… among other things.” He studied the crowd again. “A pity,” Riven repeated. “One would think the chief doesn’t have the interests of the village at heart if he can’t even join us in these simple festivities.”

  “Uh, I’m not sure about all that.” Pent paused, trying to gauge Riven’s reaction. The doctor had stopped searching the crowd and had a cautious expression on his face. “The man’s old, I’m sure he just went to sleep.”

  “Perhaps. And perhaps it is time for me to retire as well.” The doctor smiled suddenly. “Tomorrow is another day. Another chance well spent on helping others in Somerville.”

  He walked off, leaving Pent in the middle of the square. Well, that was a bizarre conversation. I think I’ll ask for Ellie the next time I get ripped up chasing Hanar through the woods…

  Chapter Fifteen

  The days continued to pass. Pent had offered to intern with Cenk, and he had spent the entire day in Cenk’s workshop pounding away at the anvil. What does he even spend all day making? I feel like he couldn’t live if he wasn’t tinkering in that workshop. It took a great deal of time to make anything out of hot metal, but how many villagers still needed tin cups and steel trays? There didn’t seem to be much point to having a blacksmith in a peaceful place like this. Pent thought about asking him to make a fancy sword, but he didn’t want to get on Cenk’s bad side. He knew the damage the smith could do with that hammer of his, even if it didn’t seem likely he’d use it for anything except tools and utensils.

  His apprenticeship as a blacksmith did not last long, however. While Cenk was initially impressed with Pent’s aptitude at hammer work, due more to his impressive upper body strength than any real skill, Pent’s height soon became a liability. He couldn’t last more than five minutes in the hut before needing to retreat to the outdoors, or dolphin dive onto his stomach for relief. Cenk’s grin shifted into a scowl through the day before he finally snapped, “No help. Out.” His words didn’t need any more explanation, and Pent didn’t need any other reasons to leave.

  He enjoyed hanging out with Mother Lyle more than choking on forge fumes. She was the lynchpin that held everything together in Somerville. Most of the others seemed singular in their desires; to work their crafts and eat their food, passing their time with simple pleasures. Pent was reminded of everyone he knew in his world, the people who would just sleepwalk through their own lives.

  But Mother Lyle was always active, always busy, and always influencing others. She didn’t have a traditional job like most of the villagers; she was more of a force of nature. Everywhere you went, she would be there to help you work through your tasks. Pent thought about some of the managers he had in jobs, he thought about governors and mayors, he thought about the President of the United States. At the end of the day, people need someone to lead them, and, for Somerville, Mother Lyle was half of that equation.

  In a way, she reminded Pent of his high school guidance counselor. She would ask probing questions whenever they met: “Are you enjoying your time here, Pent? Finding things to occupy yourself with?” It was a small deception, her way of getting people to come to their own conclusions. He heard her speak to others around the village in much the same way, always asking questions: “Oh, you seem very light on your feet, perhaps you should go on a hunt with Hanar? Are you busy with anything? Maybe go ahead and help out at the barn, Janeen could use a hand. Did you make that fishing pole yourself? That’s so impressive! Let me show you a great spot at the stream where the fish are plentiful…” To most of the villagers she talked to, she just seemed friendly and kind, but Pent could tell there was a more pragmatic side to her. She was trying to get everyone to contribute in their own way.

  Where Lyle tried to encourage everyone to help, Chief Pohk tried to limit everyone’s imaginations and get them to stop wandering off. The chief’s meticulous nature irritated Pent. He needs to learn how to relax. “Away from there! You’ll fall and then what will we do? No one can save you. Riven is busy enough as is.” Pent understood the chief wanted everyone to be safe but wasn’t sure if he needed to be such a jerk about it. They hadn’t warmed up to each other at all, so Pent tried his best to steer clear of the chief when he could. He didn’t want to get blamed for whatever random thing was going on.

  Pent tried to steer clear from Lemen as well. A few days of knowing him had made it clear the guy was a drunk. Pent knew more than a couple in his neighborhood. Where he was from they called people like Lemen a “functioning alcoholic.” Pent never saw the man one hundred percent sober. There was always a bit of a wobble to his walk, a stumble in his step. He looked like he would be more comfortable lying face down in the dirt, but, surprisingly, he was one of the most productive people Pent had met. He churned out his liquor like clockwork and offered Pent a mug full every time he passed by on the street. Apparently, the old drunk had decided Pent was his drinking buddy, but Pent wasn’t on the same page. A sip here and there was more than enough.

  Riven continued to be elusive. Being the only doctor caring for the entire village had to keep him constantly on edge Pent assumed. He had Ellie to help him, but he seemed intent on serving the villagers’ needs himself as much as possible. One of the few times Pent saw Riven, he was having a public argument with the chief in the town square.

  “He’s coming,” Riven said. “You know he’s coming soon. And yet you don’t believe the time has come for us to do something about it?” The doctor shook his head with a look of disbelief on his face.

  “We have a working agreement. I’ll hear nothing more of this!” the chief exclaimed before storming off.

  “Someday you will need to listen to the voices of the people. You can’t ignore us forever,” Riven yelled aloud to the gathering villagers.

  It was a heated exchange, with Riven playing to a growing crowd and the chief ending what seemed to be a recurring argument. Pent looked on, feeling like a child watching his parents argue.

  * * *

  Pent also helped with the fishing, a bit with the farming, and with some physical labor. He dwarfed most of the other villagers, and he was willing to press that advantage. He got to know some of the farmhands, Marall and Janeen, by working alongside them. And he had taken to helping Faldo with construction work, moving things around, hammering stakes into place, hauling materials. It was decent, if time-consuming, work. The worst part, though, was hearing Faldo rail on about his sister.

  “I designed this entire village, and she has the nerve to act as if I’m a slave to her whims?” he scoffed. “So, she trims some fabric, big deal. I’ll work on her house when I’m good and ready.” Pent never had much to say in response, offer only an awkward nod or a grunt, hoping the rants would end. At least Janeen is chill when I work with her. And Marall, all he talks about is his hyperactive kid. Pent wished that Faldo would find something more important to worry about. But I guess it’s like that everywhere. When things are quiet, people make their own drama.

  * * *

  How long had he been there, Pent wondered? Weeks, maybe a month. Without a calendar, he couldn’t be sure. “Add that to the list: no calendars, no running water, no TV.” He found himself sitting on the edge of his bed wondering at the craziness
of everything that had transpired in that time. All that’s happened in the past few weeks. It feels like some kind of waking dream. But there was no denying it. His life had been changed, morphed by his arrival in this strange new world. He felt like a surgeon had plucked him out of his own world, transplanting him like a donor organ into an unknown body.

  “Momma,” he said to himself, brushing fresh tears off his face. “I wish I could tell you what happened. I wish I could tell you I didn’t just up and leave you.” He repressed the urge to yell at the wall. It was maddening. As far as he knew, he had just vanished from his own world. Moms, Greg, all my friends. The few that I still had anyway. “I’m not missing that loser manager of mine but I’ll bet that job is gone when I get back.” He clenched his fists. “If I can even get back. Damn.”

  There was nothing he could do at this point, aside from just riding things out. He was trying to live the best life he could. But it would have been nice if he could leave his mother a note. “Just something to tell her I’m not like my dad. That I didn’t just skip town because I couldn’t handle it all.”

  He sighed and lay down in his hay bed. “Whatever. Guess I just gotta deal with it. For now, anyway.”

  He had tried to help where he could, giving back to the community that had sheltered him in his moment of need. He had even started to think about making his own home here. He had created a new life in a short period of time, and while he still missed the people of his own world, the monotony of his normal life began to fade from his mind. He had fallen into Somerville’s pattern; he had traded one kind of monotony for another.

  Then, a visitor arrived in Somerville.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Pent rose from the hay bed, stretched his arms, brushed straw from his clothes, and stepped out into the shimmering daylight. The grass was wet with dew, glistening in the sun. The morning air was so fresh here, and he stood and took it in for a moment, rubbing soreness from his arms and flexing his biceps. “Oh yea, definitely feeling myself right now.” Packing groceries and swiping cans hadn’t done anything for his physique, but he was getting a serious workout in his day-to-day here.