A Translation of Inspiration

by A.S. Morrison

hotel.

  No one gave any notice to me. I no longer got the strange looks that I got when I first arrived there. I was one of them now. Not even the vendors who stood at their little shops or at their carts and called out their specials cared that I was there. None of them stopped me to shove a plate of food in my face like they did to others. Maybe I didn’t look like I had money.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I ate anything. I didn’t even pick up the sandwich Ramonia bought me at the Clock Maker. I never even got hungry. That must have been a part of the invincibility. It didn’t make any sense that I could freeze but not feel anything when hit or even get hungry. I shrugged it off. Everything would be explained when we got to the new place in the morning.

  Halfway back I chose to stop by one of the carts and see if they could give me something to eat. I wanted to know if I even could eat. The man at the cart was calling out what he had. It took a bit for him to notice that I was trying to get his attention.

  “Would you like to buy a meat patty? These are the best in town.”

  “Can I just try a tiny bit?”

  “A sample? Of course—yes, here please take one.”

  He cut a little off and handed it to me. It was very good.

  “No thanks, I’ll go somewhere else.”

  He looked put out. I now knew I could eat. I was going to try and remember to ask the wizard why I never got hungry. I crossed the street and went down to the coast. It was much calmer there. Couples strolled along together and a few lonely people sat on benches and watched the boats. Streetlights hung overhead. The water was dark and the boats could only be seen by the lights they had hanging off the fronts.

  I lost track of where I was, the sound of the water and the nearby activity of the main street synced into one noise. It made me feel like everything was going to get better soon. I walked on with my head held high and my sights for better shores.

  The doctor’s sign came up and I knew I was at my destination. The hotel was dark when I got back to it. The lobby was empty. As I walked up the stairs I hoped to see an empty bed. I opened the door and the first thing I heard was shallow breathing. The room had no lights of its own. The only light available was from a bright sign across the street. It flashed on and off. Ambrose still sat in the bed, wide awake.

  “Can’t you get to sleep?”

  He shook his head. “I was scared.” He whispered barely audibly.

  I pulled the chair from the window up to the bed.

  “Close your eyes and try.”

  “I can’t.” He shivered. “I’m thirsty, Lawrence.”

  There was no sink. I told him I would be right back and went down to the lobby. Behind the desk was a small tank filled with water and a few paper cups. I filled one and took it back up.

  Ambrose couldn’t lift his head to drink it. I carefully opened his mouth and poured it down his throat.

  “Thank . . . you.”

  His breathing grew wheezy. I sat in the chair trying to find something to say or do. I had no medical training that I could remember and could do little but hope for the best.

  “Do you want to hear a story?” I asked.

  He made a noise I thought was a ‘yes’.

  “Close your eyes while I’m talking and try to sleep.”

  He closed his eyes.

  I already told him about everything that I had done. I needed to make up something. I thought for a bit but couldn’t think up anything. I started talking in hopes that I could make it up as I went along.

  “There was once an old woman who lived in a nice city like this one. Every day she would wake early and take the streetcar to the end of its route and then walk back by the water. She did this for years. She never had to work because she was left a huge amount of money from her parents. She also never got married. One day she saw an old man drowning in the water. She watched the man for a long time. A memory came to her of being a young woman and seeing this same man on a boat. He was a capable sailor and if he wasn’t so old he would have easily swam to shore. The woman didn’t call for help or even try to do anything. She simply stood and watched as the man sank beneath the surface. A few minutes later she leisurely went to the police and told them what she saw. They rushed to the scene and pulled his dead body from the bottom of the water. They asked why she didn’t call for help or rush to get them sooner. She politely waited for them to finish and said, ‘I can no longer yell and I never knew how to swim.’ The police apologized and let her on her way.

  “The woman went back to that spot and sat on a bench looking at the water every day for the rest of her life. One day someone came by and found her body on the bench. She was taken away and had a small funeral. Nobody really knew her and only the police showed up. They remembered the day she watched the man drown and wondered why she kept going back to that spot. A young couple came into the funeral home when the police officers were leaving. They looked too happy to be in that sort of place. ‘I urge you to respect the deceased’ one of the officers said. ‘Sorry’ the young woman said ‘but I know this woman.’ The officer stared at her strangely. ‘You did? Do you know why she sat on that bench every day?’ The young woman nodded, ‘The man that was drowning was her love for a very long time but he never knew. She knew that if she tried to rescue him she might die and he live. So she let him drown knowing that she didn’t have much time left herself. She hoped that they could finally be together after they both were dead.’ The officer shrugged and walked away, not believing any of it. He looked back to get the young couples names but they were gone. He looked at the casket and saw a picture of the old woman from when she was young. She looked very familiar to him.”

  I finished my story and was happy to see Ambrose’s eyes still closed.

  “That was a good story.” He said in a low voice.

  “Did it keep you awake?”

  “No, I just can’t go to sleep. I’ve tried.”

  I sighed. “Well, just keep your eyes closed and you might drift off.”

  “Lawrence?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think if I die I will go back home?”

  The tears tried to come out again. “You are not going to die. You just have a little sickness. Once you get to sleep you will be someplace new and the wizard will fix you right up.”

  His eyes fluttered open and then closed again. “I can’t sleep. I can’t get sleepy.”

  I patted his shoulder. “Just please close your eyes.”

  “Thank you Lawrence for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome, now think of your home and that feeling you like. It might help you sleep.”

  “What feeling?”

  “The one you had at home. Remember you told me about it?”

  “What’s home?”

  My own breathing grew shallow. “Don’t you remember your family or home anymore?”

  “I only remember you.” He whispered.

  The sickness was making him forget everything. I asked him about the city, the snowman, and even the wizard. He didn’t remember anything but lying in bed.

  “Come on now, Ambrose, you can’t forget everything.” I pleaded.

  “Ambrose?”

  “That’s your name.”

  “I have a name?”

  I couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. They spilled out of my eyes, rolled down my cheeks, and dripped into my lap. I tried my hardest to stop crying but it was all too much for me.

  He was quiet for a minute. His breathing returned to normal and I thought for a second that he was getting better. His eyes flew open and he stared at me oddly.

  “Who are you?” He breathed.

  I shook my head, trying not to believe what he said.

  And then he closed his eyes. Something was happening. He grew very pale, too pale. His skin slowly turned see-through and he disappeared altogether. My hand reached carefully over to the bed. I could only
feel air. He was gone.

  14. The Book and the Reader

  I couldn’t bring myself to move for the longest time. The room was silent and the bright sign across the street annoyed me with its flashing letters. My hands felt the blanket, still warm. I stared blankly at the bed wishing that the sick boy would appear and jump off of it. But he really was gone. I grasped onto the last piece of hope I had. I told myself again and again that he fell asleep and was transported somewhere. He was waiting for me there.

  I crawled onto the bed and brought the blanket up over my head. I tried to talk myself to sleep. Ambrose was right, it was hard. I wasn’t tired. After everything I had been through I should have fallen straight to sleep when I hit the bed, but it wasn’t going to happen. I tossed and turned and tried to think of anything I could to bring sleep. Nothing worked. My mind gravitated back to Ambrose. After an hour I was able to convince myself that he had transported away and that I had to go after him. I closed my eyes and told myself not to open them until I was ready to wake up.

  Time passed slowly, but nothing happened. I wished for sleep. It wasn’t so much a wish but a demand for sleep. There was a moment near morning when my mind cleared and I thought I might really sleep. And then I noticed that the blanket was gone and I was lying on something hard. Despite never getting to sleep I was transported somewhere new.

  I opened my eyes and saw hard rock around me. I was in a cave. It was almost dark. The only light was from an object a good distance away. I looked throughout the small cave. No one else was there.

  “Ambrose