by Edward Lorn
He had no idea how he’d gotten there, just remembered being thrown into the chase. He recalled going back to the group, amnesia welcoming him, only to be thrust forward into darkness again. A single word floated around in his gray matter, but he couldn’t remember where it had come from.
Sunne.
“Get back here, midget!” The growl, low and guttural, came from behind him.
He knew that voice. That was why he ran. Donald tripped and shot forward.
He found himself in the foyer of the Columbia University Student Services building.
Dreams of college and a future as a writer loomed in the back of his mind. He’d won several awards for his stories in state and national competitions, one of them a scholarship to Columbia. Finishing high school had been a dream come true. He could slough off the hate-filled mocking voices that haunted him on a nightly routine. He was small, worthless, or all-around laughable. That seemed to be the popular consensus among his classmates.
She was standing in a queue for the Registrars Office when Donald stepped into line behind her. He hadn’t realized he was staring at her straight black hair, which flowed down the middle of her back, until she turned and offered him a smile. Her eyes were chocolate, soul-stealing. He thought losing his soul to her was a very good prospect. The throng shuffled forward, and she faced forward again. Donald continued eying her, knowing he was coming off poorly, in a creepy sort of way, but he wasn’t able to take his eyes off her.
Her tight, streamlined form was much smaller than Donald normally liked, and she was a good two feet taller than he was. When she turned around again, looking down at him with those Hershey eyes, Donald melted.
“Hi.” He smiled, wondering madly if he’d brushed his teeth that morning.
She nodded. “Hey-lo.”
He saw nothing mocking in her eyes. She looked at him as if he were regular sized. The thought made him feel warm inside.
“I’m Donald Adams.” He extended his hand, and she took it in her own. Her hand was incredibly soft and smelled of jasmine. Whether it was lotion or soap, he had no idea.
“I is Phan Sunne, Mista Adams.” Her English was horribly broken, but he found it endearing.
“Nice to meet you, Phan.”
She giggled.
“What?” He smiled, though he had no idea what was funny.
“No. You call me Sunne. American names backwards. First name, um, last… last name, eh, first.”
“Right. Sunny. I like that name. It fits you.” He lied. Even though she shone brilliantly in the soft lights of the atrium, her black hair was far from sunny.
“Sue-nay,” she corrected. “It spelled S-u-n-n-e.”
Donald heard himself talking, saw Sunne drifting away, but had no idea why he was leaving. He still had to register for school and make sure everything was in line for his scholarship. Yet, he was going, waving at her over his shoulder, as he said, “All right. Bye!”
Fear drove him out of the line and into the light of the day. He wasn’t used to polite people who weren’t his own size. He imagined the conversation ending horribly with something like, “Why are you so short?” or “Are you a member of the Lollipop Guild?” Either of those, or something like them, would destroy him. She seemed so nice. He didn’t want anything to ruin his image of her, so he’d left.
He walked down the steps at the front of the college. A tall guy, not paying attention to where he was going, knocked Donald to the sidewalk with the backpack the moron had slung over one shoulder. Donald landed on his back, watching the guy move on without so much as an apology. He started to flip the guy off, until he noticed Sunne coming through the double doors.
Donald pushed himself up, wanting to escape before she started laughing. He was still rising when he felt soft hands under his shoulders. Her voice was calm and caring as she helped him up. “Why you leave, Mista Adams?”
When Donald looked at her, she wasn’t laughing. Not even so much as a smile crossed her face. She looked concerned. Heartbroken, even. Here we go, he thought. “It’s just… you’re going to say something I’m not going to like and ruin yourself for me. You’re a sweet enough looking girl—really, you are—but you won’t be able to help yourself. You won’t be able to get over the fact that I’m small and you’re tall, and—”
He paused when he saw that Sunne was, indeed, laughing at him. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” He stormed off toward the sidewalk, making sure his anger was shown. He didn’t care how silly he looked.
“Wait! Mista Adams,” Sunne called, catching up with him. “You don’t understand!”
Donald was almost to the turnabout at the front of the building, and had no intention of stopping. He’d heard it all before; they all laughed, thinking it was all right, that he would laugh with them. Then, when they realized he didn’t find his condition, as some put it, funny, they would chase him down to apologize.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re sorry.” He waved her off even as she jogged up next to him.
“My father shorter than you, Mista Adams. You remind me of him.”
Donald stopped.
Sunne took two more steps forward and turned to face him. She held out her hand. “Let us start from over.”
“From the beginning,” Donald corrected. Her smile was infectious, and he found himself returning it no matter how hard he fought the urge.
“Yes, from beginning. I am Sunne. You are Mista—”
“Donald. Just call me Donald.”
“Donald, ah.” She bowed her head, just slightly, making Donald feel a little awkward. He didn’t know if he should nod back or what. In the end, he just took her hand and shook it.
“Donald is good name,” Sunne added.
“Thanks.” Donald released her hand. His palm tingled where it had touched hers. “Your father is a little person, you say?”
“Yes. All his life.”
“I would hope so. I wouldn’t think he just suddenly shrunk one day.”
Sunne laughed at his bad joke, maybe too hard, but he liked the sound of it. The sound reminded him of wind chimes. “Would you like coffee date?”
“I really need to register.”
“Me, too.” She nodded solemnly. “Father has me over here to learn American business so I can come back home and make family rich.”
Sunne reached down, and Donald felt her thumb and forefinger play across his cheek. He flinched, but it felt rather good.
She pinched just under his eye, very softly, and pulled her hand away. “Hair.”
“Wow.”
“What?” Sunne blushed. Her face was so pale, the darkening looked like fire on her cheeks.
“Nothing.” Donald came out of his thoughts, mostly of the naughty variety, and tried to stay on subject. “He won’t be upset you didn’t get your stuff done?”
“Father?” she giggled. “He wait twenty-one year for this. He wait a li’l more.”
Sunne winked at him, a light, coy sentiment that made Donald feel funny in his gut. Something was moving around in there. He hazarded to think it could be butterflies. Her chocolate eyes sparkled in the noonday sun, and Donald felt himself fall in love with her.
23
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU can’t fight a shadow?” Jaleel asked. His face was ashen, much lighter than when they’d first started their trek.
Justine tried her best to pay attention to the group, but the thing she kept seeing from the corner of her eye was distracting. They moved back up the slope, making sure to stop before the time anomaly. From her guess, it began at the spot where the camera man had gone over the ledge when he tried to save Lyle.
Marsha seemed to have pulled herself together slightly. She didn’t look much better, just less frayed around the edges.
“I… see things.” Justine said, desperately ignoring the presence.
“What things?” Jaleel asked.
Trevor spoke up. “She’s been like that as long as I’ve known her. She just seems to know when bad
things are going to happen.”
Justine was glad Trevor was telling them. The thing in her peripheral vision was growing more persistent, wanting to be seen.
Her boyfriend continued, “Four months back, she tells me that I shouldn’t go to work. I’m a forklift driver for Pepsi’s warehouse in Atlanta. I kept telling her we needed the money, that the bills weren’t gonna pay for themselves, and I wanted to be able to live comfortably and be able to buy her nice things.”
“You know you don’t have to.” Justine wrapped her arm around Trevor’s. He would think it was a loving gesture, but in truth, she was only using him as a shield of sorts. With his body blocking her view, she wouldn’t have to look at the thing at the bottom of the slope.
“I know, but if we’re ever gonna get out of that complex we’re gonna need money.” Trevor kissed her lightly on the temple. His lips felt warm and soft. “Anyway, so she harps on me all morning about not going in to work, saying her ‘You’re throwing shadows’ stuff, and—”
“Wait. Throwing what?” Jaleel asked.
Justine saw recognition in the tour guide’s eyes. It made her flesh crawl.
“Shadows,” she said. “I see shadows. And that morning, I saw one on him.”
“So, finally, after her constant harassment…” She pinched his back, and he flinched. “I called in with strep throat or something like that and chilled at the apartment the rest of the day.”
“Did something happen? At your job, I mean?” Lyle asked. The boy’s eyes were wide, attentive, as if he were hearing the story unfold from around a campfire.
“The propane tank on the back of my forklift blew up. Those things have safety valves to release pressure when they get hot or malfunction. Well, that day, the lift’s engine was running hot, and the valve on the tank is what malfunctioned. They only found pieces of the guy.”
“Whoa!” Lyle said.
“It was my forklift. Mine. I never drove anyone else’s, and I sure as hell didn’t like anyone else driving mine. But because I called in sick, they had to fill my spot. I wrestled with that shit for a while, knowing that if I had gone to work, that guy would still be alive.”
“And you’d be dead,” Justine said, squeezing him in closer with an arm around his waist.
“I know. But that guy had a family, baby.”
“And I had you. Would you rather I’d been left without you?”
“Sometimes… yeah.”
Justine was taken aback by the truth in his words. She’d never realized how much that day had affected him. Trevor hadn’t let on, hadn’t expressed his feelings to her. She wondered if he blamed her. By the look in his eyes, he didn’t, but the memory was still harsh and fresh. Justine fully believed that if Trevor could go back, he would trade places with that poor man in a heartbeat.
“You know what I mean.” Trevor kissed her forehead.
She saw the wet in the corner of his eyes, and her heart sank.
As Trevor pulled away, Justine saw the thing on the slope again. It no longer hid behind the outcropping. Since peeking around hadn’t worked, it had decided to show itself. A shiver ran up her spine.
“I want to try this again,” Trevor stated. “I know we’ve been through this already, but I want a hold on just how far this… portal goes. Maybe figure out why the rock wasn’t affected.”
“I’m coming with you,” Justine said. She wanted to know what would happen to the thing at the outcropping if she were to warp back down the path. Perhaps it would disappear and leave her alone.
“We really should get going,” Jaleel said. The tour guide stared at the sky, an odd look about him. Justine saw something on his face, not a shadow, but a brightness. He glowed—softly, but glowing all the same. “I think we’re about to lose the light.”
“What?” Trevor blurted. “Man, it’s, like, still morning and stuff.”
“Yeah, that’s debatable.” Jaleel met Justine’s eyes. The shine left him. He looked toward the sky, and she followed his gaze.
“Holy shit!” Justine cried.
Jaleel continued while Justine focused her attention on the craziness happening up above, “The sun’s been moving in the wrong direction since our little warping session.”
“What?” Trevor exclaimed.
“In case you guys didn’t pay attention in school, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Since we’ve been down here, it’s been moving south.”
“That can’t happen, man,” Trevor scoffed. Justine chanced a glance at Trevor. His neck bent at an angle while he watched the sun inching its way across the sky.
“I noticed it a little while ago. It’s speeding up, too. It crested the chasm wall just as you started your story, Trevor, and now it’s in the middle of the opening up there, headed in the wrong direction. Remember how I told you guys the chasm runs north to south? Well, the sun is now running parallel to it. Not over it like it normally does at this time of day.” Jaleel ran a hand over his short, curly hair.
“That’s not possible,” Marsha said, echoing Trevor’s disbelief. Justine was glad to see the lady could once again form a coherent sentence.
“Yeah, neither is anything else that’s happened.” Jaleel emitted a nervous laugh.
“True. Never mind.” Marsha dropped back a step.
Justine was unnerved by how easily everyone was taking things. Well, everyone but Marsha. The events before the camera man’s fall, combined with their nearest star suddenly having a mind of its own, should have sent the party into a screaming frenzy. Human beings denied the improbable. It was in their mapping, their structure. Justine didn’t like the oddity one bit. She didn’t like the thing waving at her from the bottom of the slope either. She decided just to ignore both.
“So, what now?” Trevor asked, any ideas of trying the loop again apparently abandoned.
“If anyone cares…” Lyle held up his cell phone. The pictures were closed; a dashboard showed instead. “I don’t have a signal. We’re on our own.”
“Great. Just peachy,” Trevor said. “We know we can’t get back to the cars. What about going further down the slope? What’s down there, Jaleel?”
“There’s Flat Rock, then Scooter’s Dive just beyond that. No other way up.”
“You think the portal works both ways?” Lyle asked.
“How so?” Trevor inquired.
“Okay, so this… whatever it is, keeps setting us further down the trail when we try to go up. Right? So if we go down, maybe it will spit us out up top? I don’t know. Just a thought.”
Justine shrugged. “Worth a shot, I guess.”
Marsha said, “Anything to get my son out of here. Let’s just go. Please.”
“Wait!” Lyle spun around in a circle.
Justine’s stomach dropped. She had a brief flashback of Jaleel and his crazy little song and dance.
She didn’t feel any better when Lyle finally spoke again. “Where’s the little guy? What was his name?”
“Donald,” Jaleel said, looking around.
“Well, damn it,” Trevor said. “Now we have a missing person. Shit!”
“He didn’t have anywhere to go. Unless Lyle’s theory is right.” Jaleel scratched his chin. Justine almost laughed at the fact that the tour guide actually looked as if he were thinking.
Marsha said, “I’m lost. What’s Lyle right about?”
Jaleel answered, “The portal might take us back to the beginning if we continue toward Scooter’s Dive. Donald could have snuck off further down the trail and stumbled upon the way out. We’re moving on, anyway, guys. We’ll just look for Donald as we go. He couldn’t have gotten far. Just keep an eye out for shadows. Eh, Justine?” Jaleel winked at her.
Justine could have sworn she saw sparkles of pink and blue flitting from the tour guide’s eyelashes. She wouldn’t have discounted the sight if it had been a shadow. That, she had seen before. Sparkles and glowing were new. “Right,” was all she could think to say.
At the outcropping, that im
probable horror waved at her.
“Come on, babe.” Trevor took her hand.
Justine stepped forward. “I don’t like this.” She looked down the slope, meeting the thing’s eyes. It seemed pleased the group was progressing and smiled as they continued.
I know that’s not you, Justine thought.
Sure it is, Just.
She wasn’t a bit surprised that it was able to answer her. No, it’s not. And when I find you, whatever you are, I’m going to rip your heart out for trying to use her against me. So you better crawl back under that rock of yours, because I’m coming.
What makes you think you have any power here, girl?
Because you’re hiding from us. And only something that’s afraid hides.
“You okay?” Trevor asked, breaking her concentration.
“Yeah. Just making a promise to someone.”
“Huh?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just hope we find a way out of this mess.” She wrapped her arm around Trevor’s waist again.
“Me, too.”
At the bottom of the slope, standing there in her purple sundress and pink bunny slippers, Nana Penance smiled.
BRIDGING THE GAP
24
MARSHA HAD BEEN WALKING FOR fifteen minutes by her best estimate. The pathway kept cutting in on itself in zigzag patterns. The deeper they went, the heavier she felt. Her mind was beginning to come back, and was less frazzled upon its return.
She glanced at her son as they eased down the rocky slope. She tried to smile when he looked at her.
“You okay?” Lyle asked.
“You know, you look just like your father.”
“Thanks.” Lyle smiled back at her. She could tell he was proud of that little fact.
“You know…” Marsha swallowed a lump in her throat before continuing, “I didn’t mean those things I said. Back there. Back—”
“I know you didn’t. Well… now I do. Dad told me it wasn’t you.”
Marsha wondered at what point he had grown into the man she saw before her. “You really think it was him, huh?”
