by John Sharp
Chapter 6 – What Has Been Seen…
“We were lucky that she passed out,” I tell Brick, who gazes at the woman resting in my bed. Taking a wet cloth from a basin I press it to her face, cleaning the grime and dirt from it. She doesn’t even stir as I apply the cool cloth. “It made getting her back easier.”
After Clifford passed out I placed her on Whisper and he carried both of us back home. I decided on this riskier course of action to avoid any human interference. A youth carrying a pretty, unconscious woman who looks like she has been abused might encounter some issues. We did encounter some but nothing Whisper couldn’t handle. He nimbly outran ease while I held on for dear life, trying to keep myself and Clifford from falling off. After a few hours of travel we arrived at our destination. Home. Well home in the other world. Directing my sight into the human world I shifted us directly into my apartment. This was my second time shifting a human and again I noticed a resistance to being moved through reality. Shifting myself and Whisper back and forth along with those two watchers had taken much less effort than returning Clifford to her reality. How strange. I wanted to give her time to recover before encountering talking ferrets, a creature living in my wall, and a really disturbing shadow. If I rushed this too much she was likely to take an extended stay at Greenbroch Mental Institution, just like I had.
“Is she up yet?” Calls Whisper from the bathtub where he’s currently soaking. A few splashes follow his question.
“Not yet,” I call back.
“I hope she will wake up soon,” my shadow sas, resting on the ceiling above me and staring malevolently down at the sleeping figure. “I want to see if I can get her to breakdown and spout gibberish again.” He laughs at the idea of tormenting her further. It’s a creepy laugh, one that penetrates deep into my bones, reverberating around like a bullet endlessly ricocheting in a small enclosed space.
“Don’t,” I warn, glaring at him. He just laughs again and I suppress a shudder. Since she’sentirely in the human world my shadow can only do so much, but it would be enough. I finish cleaning her face and return to the bathroom with a basin full of dirty water. Lifting the toilet seat lid up I dump the water in, flushing it as a thoroughly wet Whisper peers at me just over the bathtub rim. The not unpleasant smell of wet fur fills my lungs as I grab the green apple shampoo. Feeling particular playful he squirms in the tub, splashing everywhere, mostly at me. Laughing I struggle to catch and clean him. He swims gracefully around the tub, avoiding my hands and getting soapy suds everywhere. The innocent playing and the sight of a wet ferret purring were good for my soul
I leave Whisper to play in the tub for another hour before taking him out and drying him. Then I go to the kitchen to start dinner as Whisper takes a short nap. He curls up like a small fluffy white pillow on my sofa and every time I gaze at him I feel myself give a small, happy smile. Soon the smell of browning hamburger overpowers Whisper’s lingering green apple smell. I do my best not to drool. Perhaps it’s the stress of the day or all the shifting, but I am ravenous. I just finish when Brick appears next to me.
“Jerry, she’s up. She looks confused and scared, but otherwise ok.”
I pause, considering my options. In a low tone that won’t carry to the bedroom I say,. “Leave her alone for now. Let her come out her when she is ready. But go keep an eye on her just in case.”
“Sure,” Brick says, fading back into the wall. Unless a person is shifted outside of human reality they can’t detect Brick at all. He could make a fortune working for the NSA.
Setting down three plates of food, Whisper and I start on ours while waiting in silence for our guest to join us. I find that I can’t focus on my food at all despite my hunger. Every few seconds my gaze is drawn to the door and I keep expecting to see the disheveled woman standing the doorway. My excitement grows with every passing glance at the door. Soon I will be able to actually talk with someone about the other worlds. Sure I talk with Whisper about it, but the thought of confiding in another human being after all these years of dark mutterings and accusations of insanity leaves me giddy with excitement. Endless possibilities expand before me. Perhaps I will have to shift to prove that it wasn’t all a dream. The prospect of sharing my experiences leaves me shaking slightly with anticipation. I have a hard time not going to the bedroom.
My excitement dies when I see her after nearly twenty minutes of frantic waiting. She looks terrible. Her eyes are wide as if she’s seen too much to ever shut them again. Her face is taut and sickly, with a paleness often associated with ghosts. I hadn’t changed her cloths and neither had she. I don’t think she even noticed the ones I set aside for her on the bed. Broken… she looks broken. For the first time I wonder if I did the right thing by bringing her here. I was so caught up in my own needs that I never considered what this might do to her.
“She looks terrible, Shifter,” Whisper says, still on the counter next to me. Clifford’s gaze drifts from mine to Whisper, a frown crossing her features. Unable to hear Whisper it must have sounded like squeaking to her. Not wanting her to focus too much on the strange events around me I grab her attention once more.
“Take a shower. You will feel better afterwards and I’ll get some fresh cloths for you. We can talk when you’re ready.”
Without a response she drifts like an automaton to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.
“Wow, she looks gone,” Brick says. I don’t respond until I hear the sound of running water.
“She’s still in shock. Brick, can you keep an eye on her make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”
“Sure, no problem,” Brick replies, then adds, “Provided that you can give me some incentive.” I smile, giving him some quartz and a piece of mica.
“Don’t watch her in the shower,” I tell him.
“I make no promises,” he says, receding into the wall. I return to my meal with less enthusiasm than I had started with. Both the delight of the food and the prospect of talking with Clifford have been ruined by reality.
Steam rolls out from under the door like a thick fog . I sincerely hope she isn’t curled up under a blistering shower. Leaving my meal unfinished I go to the bedroom, retrieving the clothes I had set aside for her. Approaching the bathroom door I cautiously knock loudly. It feel like I’m knocking on the door of an insane person’s cell. Someone that would either spontaneously cry for hours on end or perhaps scream. I wonder if people think the same thing about me.
“I have some fresh cloths for you. Can I come in?” No answer. I am about to knock again when I hear a soft, nearly inaudible, reply.
“Ok.” Entering the bathroom is like walking into a heavily used sauna. A thick sheen of water coats everything, from the foggy mirror to Brick’s face. He gives me an exaggerated wink as I set the clothes down on the sink. Nothing can be seen of Clifford behind the pale blue shower curtain.
Feeling like I should say something deep and meaningful I say, “Your clothes are on the sink.” I think I have an “epic failure” sign around my neck.
“Ok.” Damn. Could this be any more awkward?
“What tension!” Brick says, eyeing me. “Perhaps you could ease things by farting really loudly. You humans find your bodily functions so amusing.” I nearly snort with laughter but I suppress it, not wanting Clifford to hear.
“Shall I call a cab?” I ask, giving up on any useful conversation. A pause again, but not a lost, helpless one. This one feels different… thoughtful.
“No, there are things I need to know. I just need a few more minutes to gather myself.” Encouraged I leave the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
“Is she crying like a baby?” My shadow asks from the ceiling, having returned from whatever he’s been up to.
“No, I think she’s better now and don’t bother her,” I say. Giving a dissatisfied grunt he pools into a spot of darkness on the ceiling.
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br /> “Leave her alone, she’s already had a hard enough time,” Whisper adds, having just finished licking his plate clean and eyeing mine greedily. Giving me a cute hopeful look he twitches his nose and whiskers slightly, opening his dark blue eyes extra wide. I don’t know if normal ferrets beg for food but Whisper is a true master. Smiling I give him the rest of my food and wait for the sound of falling water to stop.
Finishing off my food Whisper licks my plate clean as well. Stretching his long body out he gives a wide yawn that can be heard clearly in the silence as the sound of running water abruptly vanishes. Whisper’s head swings around to the bathroom door as he yawns again, exposing his sharp teeth and pink tongue.
“I’ll take a nap while you talk. Wake me if you need something.” I give him a nod. Gracefully leaping down he trots almost drunkenly to the couch. Getting comfortable on the sofa he stretches out across two cushions, his soft belly exposed to the sky. Moments later a hushed snoring fills the quiet of the room.
“She’s getting dressed right now, Jerry,” Brick says, forming out of the wall near me. “She looks better but I would still take it easy when you talk with her. She did a lot of crying in the shower. Want me to hang around and help? I’m popular with the ladies.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” I say in a hushed, non-carrying tone.
“Ok, I’ll go watch TV with the neighbors then.”
A few minutes later the bathroom door opens and a blanket of mist rolls out, followed by Clifford. She stands before me in borrowed clothes that are a bit too large for her, looking at me with alert and refreshed eyes. Gone is the lost abused child. Now Officer Clifford is in command. Like steel in the forge she has survived the fire and is now stronger for it. Or so I hope. This new-found strength and resolve are not the least bit offset by her appearance. She wears a black, long-sleeved shirt with the New Orleans Saints logo on it, tucked into dark blue sweatpants. She still manages to portray a sense of authority that all lifetime peacekeepers have. Her face and white blond hair are clean and healthy looking. It’s was hard to believe that this is the same broken woman from an hour ago.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, gesturing to the remainder of the hamburger.
“Famished. I don’t suppose you have any coffee?”
“Sorry, no. I don’t drink coffee,” I say. Caffeine doesn’t affect me at all.
Scooping a large helping of the food onto a plate I set it down on the counter as she pulls a stool up next to me. “Thanks,” she says and shovels it into her mouth. I watch her eat in silence which might be interpreted as a bit creepy. In truth I have no idea what to do or say. I’ve had almost no friendly interactions with people. I feel completely clumsy. Typically, if anyone ever talks with me it’s to mock me about being a crazy little shit or to play a cruel joke. I rack my brain trying to find something to say, only to reject each as being lame or inappropriate. Luckily, Clifford doesn’t notice anything. She is too focused on her food.
I am about to say, ‘Hey at least there are no dead bodies this time…’ when she breaks the ice. Setting her fork down she turns toward me. I hadn’t really noticed it before but she is rather pretty. She has a graceful beauty like a marathon runner with curves in all the right places. Swallowing hard I feel even more awkward. She absently brushes her hair out of her eyes as we lock gazes. “So who are you?” I feel like I’ve just been gut punched. How can she not remember me? Maybe it was a lot more memorable experience for me. For her it might just have been Tuesday and another countless crime scene.
“Jerry Price, we met before. The crazy kid… your lost witness… sent to the mental institution.” I add the last part a bit sourly. She pauses thinking back and giving me a critical look. Suddenly her eyes widen in recognition.
“Yes, I remember now. The kid who said the wall ate his neighbor…” She trails off, perhaps wondering if she is in a padded cell right.
“The last twenty-four hours must have really put things in a new perspective, right?” I say and she nods, looking uncertain.
“Let me start off. You are not crazy. Neither am I. The world you know is much bigger than most realize. Other worlds overlap ours. Existing much like ours does but separate. I envision the human world which you are in right now as the surface of a vast ocean. Most never realize that beneath us there are hidden depths stretching far down. These are the other worlds.
“I have been able to see into these other worlds ever since I was born. It made for an interesting childhood,” I say hoping for a smile which I don’t get. “You were somehow trapped there until I shifted you back here.”
“Shifted?” Sarah asks.
“Yes. I can not only see into these worlds I can transport objects or people back and forth between them. I call it shifting,” I say.
“This can’t be true. People would know. A secret this big can’t be kept. And the things I saw…” She shudders. “They can’t be real. They just can’t.”
“I’m sorry, they are,” I reply.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Maybe I accidently got exposed to something. Like a drug during that disastrous raid a few days ago. It could have all been a vivid hallucination.”
“What about what I see?”
“Well you’re just…” She trails off, not wanting to say what she is desperately trying to convince herself of.
“Crazy?” I offer. She gives me an ‘I’m sorry’ look but doesn’t apologize. “Well I can prove it easily.”
She narrows her eyes at me and says in a very suspicious tone, “How?”
“I can shift you.”
Before I can explain she leaps up, backing away from me. A loud clang echoes in the silence of the room as her stool falls and Whisper raises his head up, looking around the room his eyes unfocused.
“Relax. Let me explain,” I say trying to sound reassuring.
“You do that,” she says in a tone that clearly indicates that she wants to be pointing a gun at me. For someone who claims she doesn’t believe it’s all real she acts quite the contrary. My shadow chuckles but behaves himself.
“I’m not completely in the human world. It… repels me so I’m slightly off. Using the ocean reference I’m ankle deep while you are on the surface not even getting your feet wet. In this level of reality I interact with several unique entities. I can talk with faces in the wall, my own shadow and Whisper over there.” I point to him as he lays his head back down. “I also see things differently.”
“I thought you said you could see…” She hesitate, “into the other world.”
“Worlds,” I correct. “There is more than one. I can but it usually takes a bit of effort. Movement is easier to see I can do that effortlessly.” Taking a deep breath I plunge in. “What I can do is shift you to my level of reality. There is little danger there since it is so close to the human world but you will be able to see and interact with things no one else can.”
She hesitates, battling between her desires to seek the truth and to live a comfortable lie. Contrary to what most people think the majority of humanity would rather live a comfortable lie. “You got sucked into the other world somehow. I have no idea how such a thing could happen unless it was intentionally done. You need to know the truth,” I urge.
Taking a deep breath I can see her brace herself for some great unbearable pain. “Fine. But just for a little bit.”
Smiling, I extend my hand to her. She slowly takes it and I can feel a slight tremble in her grip. I squeeze her hand in a gesture of support as she grinds her teeth together and closes her eyes.
“Ok, it’s done,” I say.
She blinks in confusion as her gaze travels around my unchanged apartment. “It is? I felt nothing and everything seems the same.”
“Of course, we are barely outside of human reality. Whisper, come here will you?”
“I’m still sleepy,” Whisper says, yawning and cur
ling up into a fluffy white ball. Clifford jumps, releasing my hand. Her eyes bulge at the talking white ferret.
“Come on Whisper, she can hear you now. Talk with her will you?” I plead.
“Can I have some cheese?” He asks raising his head, whiskers twitching in hopeful expectation.
“Sure, hop up on the counter,” I say. Clifford watches Whisper in amazed silence, her mouth forming a rather large O.
“It talks…” She declares as if she had personally made some great world changing breakthrough.
“I’m not an ‘it,’ I’m a ‘he,’ and why shouldn’t I talk? You talk,” Whisper says getting on his feet. Stretching his long body he yawns widely.
“Officer Clifford, this is Whisper,” I said going to the refrigerator for some snacks.
“Call me Sarah,” she says, never taking her eyes from Whisper as he hops nimbly on the counter next to her. He purrs loudly, rubbing his face against her hand, unleashing his full charm. Smiling she reaches down to pet him and melts in his hand…err paw. Within seconds she scoops him into her arms, scratching him behind the ears, his favorite spot.
“Whisper is not really a ferret, he just resembles one,” I say. “He’s from a differnt world, that’s why he can talk. That also why he was bigger when we took care of those watchers. Things seem to shrink when they are moved from lower levels of reality to ours.”
“Watchers?” Sarah asks.
“Yes, those creatures that were chasing you when we rescued you. I call them that because of all the eyes on that fleshy hump.” She pauses, thinking back and then gives an exclamation of surprise, glancing down at Whisper in her arms.
“You mean that this is the same creature that saved me?” She says in a disbelieving tone.
“I’m not a creature, I’m a ferret,” replies Whisper.
“Well you’re close enough to a ferret,” I say.
“Why is he so much smaller?” Asks Sarah.
“I think it’s because this world is smaller,” Brick says forming out of the wall next to me. The sudden appearance of a face in the wall is akin to something straight from a horror movie. Sarah lets out a surprised yelp, rapidly backing away while clutching Whisper tightly in her arms.
“What the fuck is that?”
Whisper chuckles. “I get petted while Brick gets yelled at. It pays to be cute.”
“Sarah, this is Brick, he’s a … Brick what is your kind call anyways?” “You humans are so obsessed with naming things. Well, that and mating. I swear that’s all your neighbors watch. Really disgusting.”
I cough loudly, face burning. “That’s enough on that topic. Sarah, Brick’s kind are rather numerous even if you’ve never seen one. They live in buildings, roads, all over any human construction.” Sarah relaxes a bit, loosening her death grip on Whisper now that she is over the initial shock of seeing Brick.
“We feed on the structures we live in and we see many things,” he says, grinning at her.
“Oh, so everyone can talk except me?” My shadow asks bitterly from his ceiling perch. Sarah gasps, turning her head in every direction, scanning for the source of this new voice.
“I don’t see why I can’t have fun as well,” he says, giving a dark chuckle. Darkness spreads across the ceiling like a gate to the abyss itself until the entire surface is dark and ominous. Sarah’s eyes go wide as she watches the ceiling alter.
“Stop it!” I shout but my shadow ignores me, too intent on his own pleasures. The darkness ripples in satisfaction, either at my anger or Sarah’s whimpering cry. Long, black arms suddenly protrude from the ceiling, making wide, grasping motions toward Sarah. She gives a wild, terrified shriek, curling up on the floor and shielding Whisper with her body. I doubt those arms can hurt her in any way but it’s the spreading of fear and discord my shadow wants. He succeeded.
“Enough!” I roar and the darkness seems to buckle thrashing against my command. It recedes swiftly like the night from the approaching dawn until only a dark silhouette remains, disbelief etched into his dark features. Apparently I can influence him like he did to me before. With an angry snort he collapses into a black pool, zooming under the front door, off to cause misery elsewhere.
“Nicely done, Jerry!” Brick cheers. “About time someone put that stain in his place.”
I smile at him, turning back to Sarah and my spike of happiness vanishes. She’s huddled on the floor, quivering in fear as Whisper gently speaks in her ear.
“Ah, damn it,” I say in a hushed half sigh. Great, right when I am making progress my shadow has to ruin it, like usual. Rushing to her side I lay a supportive hand on her shoulder only to have her jump up, backing away from me and clutching Whisper like a teddy bear. Retreating to the nearest corner her brow is damp with sweat plastering her white blonde hair to her face. Taking slow, reassuring steps I sit on the couch the side farthest from her, patting the cushion next to me.
“Its ok, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you. He just likes to scare people.”
“I believe he is what your kind call a major asshole,” Brick offers, grinning widely. Whisper lets out a purring chuckle. I think its Whisper’s laugh that reassures her. Taking slow, apprehensive steps she joins me on the couch, her legs still trembling slightly.
“Wh…wha..what was that?” She asks in an unsteady tone.
I let out a long sigh. “My shadow.”
“Your shadow?” She gazes down around my body, looking for the offending darkness. Deciding it’s easier to just show her, I stand up, entering the door way leading to the bedroom. The setting sun illuminates a large rectangle of light from the open door. I stand in the warm embracing light, letting Sarah have a good long look. All around me objects that the sun touched displayed shadows stretching far from their sources, shying away from the offending light, except for me. Back and forth her gaze travels never accepting the plain truth. I just don’t have one. Giving up, I return to the couch next to her.
“Just trust me. My shadow isn’t attached to me and is a real pain in the ass,” I say.
“But how?”
Fair question. I shrug. “I have no clue. Nor do I know why I can shift. It’s just the way I am.”
Brick chimes in. “Shifting is a fairly uncommon ability in the other worlds but not unheard of. However, they can usually only shift themselves for a short period of time. Then their reality pulls them back or they die. Jerry is the only being I’ve ever seen than can shift permanently. Another thing I’ve never seen before is a human in those other worlds. Besides Jerry, of course. How did you get there?”
She seems to sag at the question, releasing Whisper all together and sinking deeper into the sofa.
“It was so crazy and impossible that I thought I had gone mad. Even now I can’t really believe it happened.” She gestures toward Whisper, Brick and then me. “Now I guess it must be true. All of it.” Whisper jumps into her lap again, purring loudly and rubbing his face against her. She smiles down at him, proving that affectionate animals can cheer anyone up.
“Please, tell me what happened. It’s important,” I urge. She lets out a long sigh, remembering things that she would rather be forgotten and begins.
