by Sylvan Scott
The Rose Petal Thief
©2012 by Sylvan Scott
The smell of flowers drifted through Anthony’s muddled consciousness as strong hands nudged and shook him awake. He blinked, confused, but forced a smile.
“Hey, what’s up?” He slurred.
Wide, green eyes greeted him.
“There’s … someone out there.”
“What?”
“In the living room; I heard a noise.”
Anthony glanced at the clock. He’d been asleep for an hour at most; it was barely midnight. He caressed the concerned face in front of him and tried not to get annoyed. He didn’t say the first thing on his mind: that tonight had been a mistake. Bringing someone home, even someone he’d dated a few times, was … complicated. He hoped his date wasn’t one of those “needy” sorts, always jumping at shadows.
“Shh, Karl; I’m sure it’s just Max ... my roommate.”
Karl glanced through the open door that led to the dorm’s main living area. “Your roommate came back a half hour ago,” he whispered. “He’s passed out on the couch.”
A creak of floorboards echoed from the main room. Anthony sat up. Pale, white light reflected off the snow, outside and illuminated his Anderson Hall home. Through the door he could see Max’s prone form crashed out on the couch with a spilled beer can by his hand. His roommate, still dressed in a winter coat, snored softly.
Karl propped himself up on one elbow and looked up at Anthony with an expression that said, “See?”
Anthony put a single finger to his lips and, slowly, got out of bed.
The faint flower smell wafted through the air. His steps faltered; there was something strange and evocative about that aroma.
Briefly, a long-forgotten memory flashed through his mind: a vast thicket of rose bushes winding their way around tall pines. Another creak echoed through the quiet dorm.
He peeked into the main study area he and Max used as a living room. The door to his roommate’s bedroom stood open but everything else was untouched. He heard something new: the sound of rustling. It seemed to come from inside the closet by the hallway door. A chill ran down his spine. Two months before, he’d had a visitor; a visitor who had come through that impossible, closet door. While he remembered their conversation, here in the dorm, memories of the adventure that had followed were only just returning. The smell of roses grew stronger as he crept towards the closet. Behind him, Karl followed.
Gingerly, he reached out to grip the doorknob. He motioned Karl back with his other hand and slowly turned the knob until the latch disengaged. He counted to three.
He jerked the door open in a flash and a small, cloaked figure barreled into him. He was knocked to the floor and bit back a sharp profanity as he felt what seemed like sharp needles score his bare arms and chest.
The hooded invader was tiny, barely larger than a child, and smelled like flowers. He got a glimpse of a girl’s face but also leaves and slender vines. In that moment, they exchanged glances: both scared and determined. Then she spun about and raced back towards the closet door. Draped over her right shoulder was a coat.
“Hey!” He stumbled to rise, Karl’s hands hindering more than helping.
Rather than going back in, the girl slammed the door. Anthony’s memories continued to return as he lunged forward.
His grabbed her arm but sharp stings pierced his palms. He yelped and let go. She kicked at him and knocked him back before rapping on the door four times. Glancing back, she leveled another kick at his groin. He spun aside, taking the blow on his thigh. It stung like nettles being raked across his skin.
He stumbled into Karl as she grasped the closet door knob. She gave it a counter-clockwise twist and pulled it open.
Dim light filtered into the room as she ran through. For a moment he could see dim twilight and a vast expanse of deep, forest trees.
The final pieces of Anthony’s missing memories came flooding back. He recalled his times as a child spent in the magical world of myth and talking animals with his old satyr friend, Wiste. He remembered the world he called “NeverEarth”...
In that moment of clarity, she slammed the door behind herself.
Karl rushed forward.
“Wait! Karl!”
His guest wrenched the door open.
A dislodged hockey stick fell out, clattering to the floor. The forest was gone. Inside the mostly empty closet was a box, a few wind-breakers, and a shallow shelf. There was no sign of the girl. Only the faint smell of flowers and a few, red petals remained of their intruder.
Max, in his drunken stupor, slept on.
“You won’t find her,” Anthony said. He put his hand on Karl’s shoulder, wincing at his numerous small scratches and punctures. “She’ll be following the paths of the World Labyrinth by now.” He caught his breath as Karl picked up the hockey stick.
“The World what?” He looked at Anthony with a confused expression. “Who was that?”
“Never saw her before in my life; but there’s lots of people I’ve never met in NeverEarth.” He looked at Karl, curiously. “You … have no memories?”
Karl sounded cautious. “Memories of what?”
Anthony nodded to himself. “Figures; you probably visited some other world as a kid. If you’d ever been to NeverEarth you’d be remembering it by now.”
Like every time he encountered something from the magical world he’d visited as a child, his memories had come back to him. Only two months before, on Christmas Eve, he’d had a visitor. Wiste was his childhood friend and had come to see him for the holidays. The two had had one more adventure before Anthony had made the faun promise to keep in touch. The floral-smelling intruder was hardly his friend.
He’d never forgotten the evening he and Wiste had spent in his dorm, talking about the old days but the day-and-a-half he’d spent fighting werewolves and a giant fox afterwards, in NeverEarth, had vanished within hours of his return home. Now, those memories were back.
“Uh, maybe you’d better back up,” Karl said. “What’s ‘NeverEarth’?”
He looked around his dorm room. “I’m more interested in knowing why she took my coat.” From the bedrooms to the closet to the hall door to his passed-out roommate, everything seemed in place. It was all there: as boring as ever. He’d had adventures before, but none had ever come to him. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
He stepped up to the door and shut it. Closing his eyes, he remembered the paths and places of his childhood home-away-from-home. He felt it more than visualized it. The key to finding paths in the mystic concourses of the NeverEarth was to use your heart’s desire. With his recently restored memories firmly in mind, he had plenty to choose from. He knocked four times before reaching down to turn the knob counter-clockwise.
The door opened.
On the other side, dawn was breaking in a verdant forest of pine and birch. He smiled and breathed deep the smell of trees clean air.
“No way...”
Anthony smiled at Karl’s gasp but only for a moment. This was something for which Karl was unprepared.
“You’d should probably head home, now,” he said. “Don’t worry: you’ll forget about this and not think you’re crazy by morning.”
Karl narrowed his eyes. “Forget about it? Doorways into other worlds and magical thieves in the middle of the night? I don’t think so.”
Anthony glanced from Karl to the spreading light of dawn in his closet. Then he explained the situation as best he could. When a kid, he’d been told that mortal minds had a problem when they left their native world. While away, everything seemed normal. Only upon returning, though, did the memories flicker like a guttering candle and fade.
“Look, if someo
ne came through—specifically came into my home and stole my coat—there has to be a reason. I’d like to find out what it is.”
Karl nodded, pondering Anthony’s words. “Fair enough,” he said. He paused, seemingly wrestling with his thoughts, before adding, “lead the way.” He smirked and brandished the hockey stick like a weapon.
Anthony frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I said, lead the way. Time’s a wastin’.”
“Look, I don’t think you know what you’re saying. This isn’t a walk down to the convenience store for—”
“I got that part from the mystical forest in your closet,” he said. “And besides, I need to prove to myself this isn’t a dream or something you slipped into my drink at O’Gara’s.”
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud.”
Karl smiled and put a hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “Look, this is definitely weird but I’m wide awake and, honestly, what would you do?”
That last part made Anthony pause. The sages and royals of NeverEarth had always told him that all mortals had visited other worlds; that gateways were all over. His best childhood memories had been spent in a place he could never quite remember. If Karl had never been to such a world, what did that mean? Were there people who’t not had such adventures? Briefly, he felt pity for his friend.
Karl’s eyes were determined as they met Anthony’s.
