The Forgotten World

by R Gene Curtis

  “I’ll make a deal.” Arujan chuckles. “Take me to see the portal, and I’ll leave your village before the snow starts to fall.”

  I gasp at the audacity of the request! Ziru stares at Arujan in stunned silence. Arujan repeats his request again.

  “See the portal? I thought you didn’t believe the princess would return?” Ziru finally says in a whisper.

  “Oh, she’s not going to. But I’d like to see it.”

  Nothing Arujan does makes sense. The portal is sacred. Only a handful of villagers have ever been there, and even then, only on sacred occasions. I’ve never gone.

  “If we go, the town loses our efforts for a full day. Winter is approaching—how can I leave my people in this time of need?”

  “I don’t just want you,” Arujan smirks. “I want four or five others to come.”

  “The location of the portal has been a sacred secret for over two hundred years. We don’t just take people up there. Especially not when it would require losing an entire day’s work!”

  “I never said you had to take me. Just that I would leave if you did.”

  Ziru looks at me and then back at Arujan. “I don’t see the difference,” he finally says.

  22 Reassured

  Lydia

  The blast of frigid air hits me harder than that girl from Stanford did as I step out of the rental car at the trailhead to Double Arch. I pull my coat around me and slam the door, and Karl follows suit on the other side of the car. I wonder how long the car will sit here before they tow it away. How much will they charge me for it?

  I laugh at the thought. We may only be here a few minutes.

  The drive through the park this morning was glorious. Brilliant white snow clings to the red rocks, and the white and red stand out in stark contrast with the blue sky and bright sun overhead. Arches was beautiful in the fall, but it’s amazing in the winter. Any other day, we would need to stop, bask in the beauty, and take pictures.

  Not today. I don’t need a camera to remember this.

  I hobble away from the car and squint against the light reflecting off the snow. I only see one thing; Double Arch looms just ahead.

  It’s time to get to that arch.

  The wind whips my hair back and around my shoulders. The cold air bites at my cheeks. But I keep walking. I don’t know how this arch works, but I try to will it to work. If there is any such thing as ESP, I send out signals, telling it where I need to go.

  Footsteps crunch on the trail beside me.

  Karl’s hair is disheveled, more so than the other times I’ve seen him, and his clothes are dirty and wrinkled from his long bus ride. He walks stiffly. I think he’s gained even more weight since the last time I saw him, if that is possible.

  He hasn’t said a word since I picked him up this morning from the shuttle at Green River. At least we’re out of the car now, mitigating the smell of his large body.

  Karl isn’t the guy I want to take with me on a magical journey. He looks more like a bum I picked up on the side of the road to take to a homeless shelter. I should consider myself lucky he didn’t mug me and steal the car.

  Why couldn’t someone else take me through the portal? Someone like Brian. Only Maria could be so fortunate.

  I wish I could move faster. I wish I could get to that portal sooner and escape my nagging doubts and fears. I stumble, and Karl’s hand shoots out and catches me.

  “Why don’t you steady yourself against me?” His kind voice is at odds with his wild appearance. “It’s a long trail for a weak knee.”

  I’m grateful for his help and repulsed by his odor and touch. He’s right though, I don’t want to mess up my knee any worse than it already is.

  Still, I grimace as Karl’s fingers close around mine. His hand is chubby, like a marshmallow. I’m surprised it isn’t sticky and gooey, too. Dad’s hands were coarse from years of hard, manual labor. Tough, firm. Not like this.

  I take a step and suddenly shimmering blue light augments the scenery. It streaks out of the snow and swirls around my feet.

  We’re not to the arch yet. Why can we see the light already?

  But the light means this is real. I take a breath and put my hand in my pocket. Mom would approve of this. She would want me to go.

  Then, Karl takes a step too, and the light explodes around us. If light can be sensed with touch, this light is warm, like slipping into a bath after a long day of soccer in the rain. Light swirls around us, entirely envelops us, and within seconds, it’s gone.

  We stand together in the mountain meadow. I pull my hand away from the marshmallow. He’s not taking me back this time.

  Fresh spring scents greet us. Sunshine dances across my face, its warmth as strong as the bitter wind that chapped my cheeks only seconds ago. Bees buzz around me in a sea of flowers—red, blue, orange, yellow, and even green.

  At my feet I find a cluster of small blue flowers. I know these flowers; I’ve wondered about them every day of my life. I reach down to pick one but find that the stem is unnaturally strong. It doesn’t bend at all. I put more pressure on it and it snaps in my hand. The flower matches the tattoo on my breast. Exactly. It’s the same size, too.

  I’m from here. I feel it—the same sense of belonging I felt last time we were here. This is my home. I want to find out how. I need to find out why.

  Karl moves away, poking around the meadow. We hadn’t made it to the arch. Was it just about him the whole time? Could we have gone through the portal back in Pittsburgh?

  Not with the way that he treated me!

  I turn away. Being here isn’t about him. I hope he feels at peace, but I’m here for me.

  I shrug, and my coat slips off without unzipping.

  All the metal I was wearing when I came through the portal is gone. My knee brace has fallen off my leg.

  My phone! It’s gone.

  Mom!

  Only the cloth from my clothes is here. Fortunately, my stretchy pants are still hugging my legs.

  But the phone. Mom. She’s gone.

  I twist to look back at the portal, and feel my bra get totally messed up under my shirt.

  Is it possible to feel like you belong somewhere, and to be really uncomfortable at the same time?

  I duck down so that I’m nearly invisible in the grass and flowers. I slip my hands into my T-shirt and manage to get my bra off. There is no reason to keep it without the metal clasps. I don’t like how my shirt feels against my chest, but I’ll have to deal with it. At least my T-shirt is cotton. I shove the bra underneath my coat.

  Karl clears his throat behind me and I nearly jump to Mars. How long has he been there?

  I stand, and I force myself to look at him. At least his face is a little red, too.

  But then I notice his eyes. Blue light, just like the light from the arch. Karl’s eyes are glowing.

  “Your eyes,” I say.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your eyes,” I say, louder this time. “They’re glowing. Neon blue. I’ve never seen anything like it! They didn’t look like that on Earth.”

  He looks at me strangely. He doesn’t believe me. “I’m not sure what to do here,” he finally says. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

  I’m too surprised to say anything.

  “We could come back,” he says. “But let’s move the car. Let’s find out what clothes will make it through the portal, so we can both be comfortable. Then we can come back. I’m worried about your knee without a brace. If you get hurt, I’ll have to take care of you.”

  I start to smile, as if it’s a joke, but the smile catches before it happens. He’s serious.

  I’m not going back. Not yet. What if we can’t come back here?

  “I’m okay.” I stand up and try to look strong and confident. My knee does hurt a little, but he doesn’t have to know that. “We haven’t been here long, and I’d like to look around.”

  “I don’t know if that’s wise. We don’t know where we are. We could be right in th
e middle of a war zone, and we wouldn’t know it.”

  He’s lying—he isn’t going to bring me back. I’ve waited months to get here, and I’m not going to leave now.

  “I’m really want to head down that trail.” I point across the meadow. I can’t see the trail, but I remember it from my dreams about this place. I think it slopes into the pine forest away from the meadow.

  Karl’s eyes narrow. “Look. We should be careful. The plants are strange. I don’t know what we’ll find. We don’t know what is poisonous or if this place is even habitable by humans.”

  I can see fear in his eyes, through the glowing blue light. I take a step away from the blue flowers, away from the portal. I don’t want to be sensible or think things through right now. Besides, I’m from here. Of course, it’s habitable by humans.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You athletes think you are invincible,” he calls after me. “You’re about to hike down a trail with an unbound, injured leg without a second thought.”

  He spits out the word athlete like it’s a swear word. As if we’re all the same. He didn’t know my Mom. She knew soccer better than anything. And she was amazing. Smart, happy, and cool.

  “What proof do you have that there is any danger?” I call back over my shoulder as I push through the flowers, annoyed by his fear.

  “What proof do you have that there is not?”

  “I feel good about going.”

  For some reason that strikes him as funny. “Just think about what you are saying! Anyone knows that feeling has nothing to do with reality. Now is a time to think logically.”

  I stop dead in my tracks and turn around to face him. He isn’t too many steps behind me. “Think logically? Like how you call me out of the blue and make me drive down here on an instant’s notice. Or, how as soon as we get here you’re ready to go?”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it again and looks at the ground.

  “I just want to be safe,” he finally mumbles.

  Why would he need to find a safe place? But, he doesn’t say anything else. He continues to stare at the ground, and even though I start to feel sorry for him, I decide I don’t really care. I walk away from him and find the trailhead right where I expected it. My knee is stronger than it was a few weeks ago, but I can’t go too long without the brace. I’ll see some of the trail and then turn back before it gives out. Hopefully I’ll find something interesting before that happens.

  Karl grabs my hand from behind. Before I can stop myself, I take a step forward.

  So does he.

  Nothing happens, except that I’m extremely annoyed. I yank my hand away.

  “The portal must be more specific here,” I say.

  “I’m coming with you,” Karl says. “I can’t get back through the portal by myself.”

  He doesn’t want to give me any reason to trust him, does he?

  I should probably be nervous, too. But, I’m excited. And curious. And annoyed at Karl.

  I start down the trail. This part of the mountain wasn’t in any of my dreams. This is all new.

  Karl hikes behind me. In silence. The plants here look a lot like plants on earth. As if we know we aren’t on earth right now. But, if this place wasn’t safe, why would it feel so familiar?

  23 Relaxed

  Lydia

  After about an hour hiking, we run into a small river. We haven’t seen anything particularly interesting, or dangerous on our hike so far, although the forest has been incredible. It reminds me of Mount Rainier with its tall trees and soft trails.

  The river’s water runs down the mountainside, shimmering in the sunlight as it glides over the rocks. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, sweat trickles down my back, and my knee aches.

  “Let stop and rest for a few minutes,” I say. It’s the first thing either of us have said since the meadow.

  “I don’t think we should drink that water,” Karl says. Does he think that everything in this world is going to kill him? He sits down on the bank of the river and looks around like a nervous animal.

  I feel strangely safe in this world, albeit a little discouraged. The afternoon hike through the forest has been nice, but it hasn’t taught me anything about myself. There are tons of great hikes in Seattle, and Mom and I have been on almost all of them. Hiking was always second only to work and soccer. Even Dad would go on hikes with us once in a while.

  The water is too tempting, and Karl’s warning too paranoid. I hobble to the side of the creek and sit, careful not to tweak my knee as I find a comfortable place next to the water. I plunge my hands into the stream and raise them to my mouth. Water trickles down my arms and drips off my elbows, and some of it makes it to my mouth. It’s cool against my parched lips and throat. I dip my hands into the water again and again.

  “You really should try some of this,” I tell Karl.

  “You won’t be saying that once you get giardia,” he tells me.

  Whatever. “What makes you think there is giardia here?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t have any way of knowing what microbes are here. We could already be dying. You could have just poisoned yourself. We don’t know where we are. Or when we are.”

  He’s right. We could be on earth, or the portal could be a time travel thing. Or, maybe we’re across the galaxy on some other planet. Is time moving the same across worlds? The plants look mostly like earth plants, but I’m not sure if that is relevant.

  But, I don’t think we’re dying of anything.

  When I finish drinking, I untie my shoes, roll up my pants, and slip my bare feet into the cool water. I gasp at the cold on my skin. It feels good, though the movement hurts my knee. I can’t hike too much longer. My knee is already throbbing from not wearing my brace. I hope I haven’t pushed it too far already.

  Frustrated, I watch the river as it rushes by me, the clear water broken every so often with a leaf or a bug along for the ride. I see a small fish swim into an alcove at the opposite end of the river.

  I want to talk to someone. About the peace here, about my disappointment at finding nothing, about my confusion of what to do next. I need to talk so I can make sense of what is going on.

  But I don’t say anything to Karl. He’s so grumpy! His head twitches nervously; he jumps at every sound. Has he never been in the woods?

  I push the thought that I’m forcing him to be here against his will out of my mind for the hundredth time. He called me. He told me he wanted to come here.

  But, I don’t know what to do next. Nothing makes sense. Why did I want to come here so badly? Should I have waited until my knee was stronger? Did I really come from here? Where are the people? Is it really time to go back to my world? Was this my only opportunity to be here?

  If I leave with Karl now, coming back doesn’t seem likely. Not that we can go back; I’m not sure if Karl will make it back up the trail to the portal without having a heart attack.

  Karl’s eyes catch mine—panic shining in the glowing blue light. He looks wild. Coming here with a complete stranger probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.

  Maybe it’s time to go.

  I sigh and lean my head down on my hands. I feel so confused; I wish someone would decide what to do for me.

  I pull my feet out of the water and set them on a rock to dry. The sun feels good on my bare skin.

  A loud crash and shout startles me and my feet fall back in the water. Karl jumps up, spinning around wildly.

  “Ratoiqk, Hgiqou’ui!” a voice demands.

  Men wielding sharp knives pop up out of the bushes. They surround us. Eight men, clean shaven, with long, braided hair. They wear black tights and brown leather boots. On top, they wear brown, animal-skin tunics that go down to their thighs.

  People. Finally. We found them. Their faces are set in scowls; the sunlight reflects off the blades of the knives.

  And they look like me. Flat noses, no earlobes.

  Karl crouches next to t
he stream like a cornered animal. His eyes dart from side to side, searching for a way to escape.

  He isn’t going to find one. We didn’t hear them, and they surrounded us. Besides, I can’t run. Though, Karl might be the kind of person who leaves me behind if he gets scared.

  I stand up slowly, careful not to move too suddenly or tweak my knee. Unfortunately, since my feet fell back in the water, they’re wet and collect dirt quickly. I hope I don’t have to put my shoes on soon—they will be especially uncomfortable with dirt caked to my wet feet.

  The largest man steps forward. “Ratoiqk Hgiquoui,” he says. The same words as last time. He bares his teeth, yellow teeth, peppered with cavities. His eyes stare out at me from behind his braids of hair. I think of the early Americans who were skinned alive by the Natives, and for the first time I feel nervous. Is that my fate, to die here, to have the sun bake my bare muscles and bones while I scream in anguish?

  The repeats himself a third time, and I realize I understand the meaning of the man’s words. “Who are you?”

  No, those aren’t the words you shout at someone before skinning them alive.

  No one moves as I try to figure out what to do next.

  The men’s faces seem more curious than malicious. I turn my gaze back to the man who asked me who I was. Did I really understand him? Can I speak back to him? My voice comes out timid, reflecting my diffidence, “We are strangers here.”

  But those are English words and the man’s face tightens as I say them. The other men shift anxiously.

  A man behind me grumbles, and I understand his words, “Our leader hesitates in our time of greatest need.”

  I don’t understand the words the people are saying, but I understand their meaning. Will speaking work the same way? I close my eyes and think of what I want to say to the men. I hear strange words come out of my mouth, “Yturiqa ooupu noit.”

  We are strangers here.

  A smile tugs at the large man’s lips, and the grumbling voice behind me swears. I keep my gaze focused on the large man in front of me. The leader.