“Sure. Thanks,” Antonio said, accepting the beverage. He opened it, took a long drink, and shook his head. His familiar and gentle smile, the epitome of good-natured miens, crept back onto his face. His voice was slightly apologetic, even if the weariness was still present. “Sorry about the outburst, Logan. Just everything is getting to me.”
“Antonio, you know that if I could work magic, I would help you out right now,” Logan smiled widely towards his friend, an expression that he only sparingly displayed. The smile then faded a little. “Only you, though. Most of the rest in this world can go to hell. If I can ever break through this trap of having to work for idiots, and live in a world governed by idiots, who were voted in by masses of even greater idiots, I will take care of things too. We will get the hell out of this town. We will take care of our own.”
Antonio gestured over towards a fantastic poster framed on the wall to his left. It showed a vast castle with great towers set atop a lofty mountain, above which a great black dragon was flying. The roaring dragon was oriented towards one of the towers of the castle’s outer wall, one massive set of talons reared back as if about to strike a blow.
“Be nice to go somewhere like there,” Antonio said, staring into the large print.
Logan smiled again, with a wistful glint to his eyes as he gazed upon the image.
To Logan, the art spoke of a world of wonder, a world where the rules were fundamentally different, where anything might be possible, and where something new was around every corner. It spoke to him of majesty and dignity, a window into another world rich with excitement and an adventurous life.
“I’ve looked at that one quite a lot myself,” Logan commented. “Yes, it would be great to go back to an age of castles, to a time and place when things like dragons really existed. But it just isn’t possible, now is it?”
“No, I guess it isn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to dream,” Antonio responded.
“No, it doesn’t,” Logan agreed. “I think I would go insane otherwise.”
He paused for a moment in quiet reflection, and then looked over at his friend.
“I probably need another break myself, and I’ve been cooped up in here for too long today,” Logan said, “Want to take a short walk?”
“Sounds good to me,” Antonio agreed.
“Wait here, just a second,” Logan instructed him.
It took a couple of minutes for Logan go check and make sure that everything that he had been working on when Antonio had knocked on his door was saved, protected, and in good order. Once satisfied, he returned back to the front living room.
“Ready?” Logan inquired, picking up a set of keys from where they were lying upon a small wooden stand, adjacent to a coat rack positioned behind the front door.
The two exited the house, with Logan tarrying again to lock the door and set his house’s alarm system. It was nearly three in the morning when they started off down the quiet neighborhood street.
A tranquil atmosphere had settled over the neighborhood, as most of the occupants of the nearby houses had long since retired for the night. A few scattered lights were visible, shining forth from a few windows, but only the sound of a dog barking and some cars farther off broke the stillness.
A smooth breeze washed cool air upon the faces of the two young men, as they made their way along the sidewalk. The night sky held few clouds within it, and those that did ride the sky looked to be little more than stretched, thin wisps of vapor. The moon, nearly full, was bright and stood out strongly amid a host of visible stars.
The moonlight dappled the streets in pockets of light, even as it cast a wide variety of shadows from the towering oak, maple, and pine trees that populated the older neighborhood and lined its streets.
For about a block, until they had turned the corner to the right at an intersection, Logan and Antonio continued in relative silence. At the moment, the atmosphere was a welcome sliver of restful serenity.
Occasionally, there was the presence of a cat trotting in and out of the shadows by a house, or crouched attentively by the street. Here and there, a dog let loose a couple of small barks from within one of the fenced-in backyards that they passed.
Otherwise, there were very few distractions, save for the occasional car on its way home or cutting through the side roads.
Logan gazed up at the open sky, letting his eyes sweep across the huge ebon canopy, even as his lungs took in a long, slow breath of the fresh, cool air. To Logan, the night sky always hinted of the magical, as if something wondrous and mystical was playing just beyond the edge of his vision.
It always stoked the fires of his imagination, as for him it was like looking into a swathe of infinity whose immensity and scope was overwhelming to comprehend.
With Antonio dwelling silently in a brooding world of his own thoughts, Logan allowed his mind to wander. He had always envisioned the grander picture of life. It was much harder for him to focus on the smaller pictures that occupied the daily world. In his quiet, restrained world, his mind was still free to roam with willful abandon.
Even a glance at the deep night sky reinvigorated him. In a moment, he saw worlds of wonder, an endless diorama of possibilities and adventure.
When he read, he loved the authors that soared above the mundane, delving into the infinite possibilities of what could be. It was much the same with movies, video games, or any other type of medium that he might indulge in.
He had often been chastised by his parents for blurring the lines between reality and imagination in his mind. If anything, their berating of him had only made him more determined in his hopes that one day he could prove that there was far more to the world than the common experiences that seemed so all encompassing.
“Wouldn’t it be great, if something totally unheard of, totally unbelievable, happened to us?” Logan commented suddenly, breaking the extended silence.
His eyes still panned across the sky.
“Like what?” Antonio asked.
“Something different. Something unexpected. Something unusual. Something completely exciting,” Logan stated. “It wouldn’t take me long to forget my routine existence.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a loss leaving our world behind,” Antonio remarked, with a bitter smile. “Except for a few friends and family.”
Logan smiled gently at his friend. “Other than a few people, it would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“I have never thought about anything that unusual actually happening, but I’m with you,” Antonio said, grinning.
“We just get so used to the way that things are, and so used to knowing that if we drop a rock, it is going to fall down. We are so used to knowing that the sun will rise, and that fall will go to winter, winter to spring, spring to summer, and summer back to fall,” Logan said. “What if all that was turned completely upside down? Just for once? What if you could think that the rock would rise up, or gravity was a non-factor, that you could even fly?”
“Never given a lot of thought to it, but I do see what you mean,” Antonio said. “It would be something to be able to fly.”
“Me too,” Logan agreed firmly. “Just for once I wish the rules could be different. Just for once. Like this book I once read in school.”
“The rules?” Antonio asked. “What book?”
“Just being able to walk through a simple closet, an ordinary thing of the world, and suddenly finding yourself in a whole new existence.” Logan said, only partly responding to Antonio as he mused out loud about his innermost sentiments. His tone hardened, “A world where we wouldn’t be beholden to the idiots, and could even become kings ourselves.”
“I don’t need to become a king, but a change for the better would be nice,” Antonio replied.
Logan’s thoughts began to drift once again as they continued on down the sidewalk. He held back the regrets about the world that he wished would exist.
Giving disappointments too much attention always left a bitter taste.
The truth w
as that Logan had often paused when opening a closet door after having read that book, a part of him believing that it was possible to find another world.
It was a part of him that his parents had once mocked, even if they had meant well, but it was a part of him that he was not about to part with.
DEREK
Derek Decker lay quietly in the welcome repose of his bedroom, a haven at the present moment.
Janus was downstairs, mercifully asleep on the couch. Derek knew that Janus had not wanted to go home that night, as his house had carried an unfathomable emptiness for him without the presence his father. He knew that there was really nothing that he could say to truly console his grieving friend, and that fact burned bitterly within him.
If there was one consummate truth about the physical world, it was that there was always more room for sorrows.
Even though Janus had been listless, as if he had been sapped of his very enthusiasm for life itself, Derek was resolved to keep Janus within some kind of sphere of activity. The abyss of grief, Derek felt, would only be magnified if Janus were left alone to the tortures of his traumatized mind and sorely wounded heart.
An idea had come to Derek’s mind earlier that day.
A mutual friend of Derek and Janus, named Kent McNeeley, had a father who owned a house by a lakeside. The elongated, winding lake, far from secluded, was the scene of many buoyant social gatherings throughout the spring, summer, and into early autumn. One who was disposed to the outdoors could always indulge in the leisure of boating, fishing, or taking hikes in the wooded areas throughout the region. For Janus, a visit to the lake would be a full change of environment, and it would offer a degree of activity that would promise to keep his mind slightly occupied.
After wracking his brain, it was the best solution that Derek could find at the moment to try to help Janus find a spark of life again.
Derek would also have some more help at the lake. Kent McNeeley was a good acquaintance of Janus’, and a very good friend of Derek’s.
He knew that Kent’s father lived in the city most of the year while running his real estate company. There was no doubt that it would take little convincing to get Kent to agree with Derek’s plan.
The decision made, Derek made a mental note to himself to call Kent in the early morning, even if he knew that Kent would not be entirely happy about an early phone call.
Satisfied at settling upon a course of action, Derek finally let his mind relax.
Shutting his eyelids, he rolled over in his bed and finally gave his own body permission to sleep.
ERIN
Trudging in groggily at almost five in the morning, Erin made only a brief and necessary stop at the restroom, before lumbering on to her room and crashing almost fully clothed upon the bed.
The last two evenings had been nearly mirror images of each other, and she had been left with a sharp feeling of restless dissatisfaction at the conclusion of the night.
Erin was quickly tiring of the increasingly tedious setting of Uli’s apartment, where she, Lynn, Razor, Uli, and some others had wasted away so many hours. The end to the nights arrived only when the natural, irresistible fatigue of the human body finally caught up with them.
On such nights, they rarely saw anything other than Uli’s cramped living room, and Erin was sorely tired of that.
The rising tedium had served as a great motivation to Erin to speak her mind towards the end of the evening. Evidently, the boredom had been present in more than one of the others, as they had readily agreed that the group needed a change in scenery.
She did not make any move to set her alarm clock as her body settled into the mattress. Erin already knew that she would be calling in sick to her workplace, and not because she expected to be ill. She knew that she would be feeling healthy enough once she had gotten a few hours of sleep.
Once it was apparent that everyone needed a hiatus from the little apartment, a full consensus had then been reached for the following evening, one that Lynn, Razor, and Erin had readily agreed to. For once, Uli had shown some initiative in suggesting that they undergo a journey down to the great national forest, located just an hour away from their hometown.
Once there, they could hike towards an outcropping of rock that formed a natural bridge, and choose an optimal campsite in the vicinity for a night of relaxation and merriment. As it tended to be a popular camping area, Erin hoped that they would have some luck and that it would be devoid of very many others that evening.
A more cynical side of Erin mused that it would not be all that different from the past few nights, with the exception of a change of scenery. Virtually the only real difference would be that instead of carpets, walls, and sofas, they would have the bare earth, trees, and rocks as their surroundings for the same activities. Of course, to her greater view, there was little else to do, and it was as good of a plan as any other. At the very least, even if the company and general activity were the same, the ventilation would be much better. section ii
MERSHAD
Mershad passed much of the day keeping to himself, content to be sequestered away within the solitude of his dormitory room. As it was the weekend, a good number of the other university students at the dormitory, mostly those who lived in the immediate region, had gone home for a couple of days. Even with the smattering of students that still remained, there was an unusual quietness permeating the residence building. For Mershad, the absence of most of the students was a great relief.
As usual, he had not needed the use of an alarm clock to rouse himself just before dawn broke. His internal body clock was very well attuned, after more than twenty-three years of practicing his faith. Following his morning prayers, the first of five designated periods of prayer each day, he allowed himself a little slack and dozed in his bed for a while longer.
After about an hour, the rest of the morning was spent leisurely; taking a long shower, making a small pot of coffee, and suffering through a little television.
As he had come to expect, the television was inundated with the latest updates about the ongoing war in the Middle East. The US-led coalition’s forces had completed another flurry of thunderous air and missile attacks, and the newscasters were very upbeat about the recent reports from the battlefronts.
Only one of the aircraft from the coalition forces had been lost in the fray, and that lone plane’s destruction was due to an engine failure, rather than enemy defenses. As Mershad and even the most casual of observers were well aware by now, the fighting was a one-sided affair that was degenerating quickly into a massacre. Unopposed in the skies, piloted and unmanned aircraft struck with unhindered impunity. Missiles launched from sea vessels offshore and military bases in the region raced towards their targets, guided meticulously by the latest systems, backed by the USA’s unrivaled satellite network.
It was a deeply unsettling war to Mershad for other reasons as well. He could not see where older notions of honor and respect for one’s opponent had a place in the modern ways of combat. It was not a war where adversaries clashed face to face, sword to sword, like the tales of the Crusades in the Middle Ages. Rather, it was one where one side’s technological dominance enabled widespread slaying at a great distance. Operators of remotely controlled, unmanned aircraft could sit in full safety at consoles in air-conditioned rooms, located numerous miles from where their implements unleashed their deadly rain of fire and thunder.
Mershad could only handle a few minutes of the parade of images, and the accompanying stoic commentary by the ubiquitous retired generals that were surfacing regularly on the networks. He watched the screen with trepidation as a large building was turned into a pile of rubble in an instant, from aerial surveillance footage recording a missile strike’s massive impact. With fear and sadness in his heart, he finally turned the television off.
In the early afternoon, he decided that the dorm room was too confining and that he needed a little fresh air. Chancing a foray out into the public, he procured lunch at one o
f the fast food outlets just across the street from his building.
Doing his best to avoid undue attention, he ordered the food to carry out, taking it back his room to eat in quiet. Once his hunger had been sated, he gathered up some books and his laptop computer.
Tucking them into a satchel and easing the shoulder strap over his right arm, he set off for a secluded spot that he preferred to visit when he needed space to think. The place was situated near the primary student center building, about a ten-minute walk from his dormitory. The center was located a little farther down on the west side of the campus’s main boundaries, just off the downtown area of Lexington.
His favored area consisted of nothing more than a lowered expanse of open grass, which sat several yards underneath the street level as it was spread over a substantial sinkhole. A number of fully matured trees were arrayed about the area, forming a dynamic filter that cast direct light and shaded pools about in a number of different combinations and arrangements as each day proceeded.
It was set away from the main pedestrian thoroughfares of the campus, and the primary access points to the student center. As such, it tended to have a quiet and subdued atmosphere. Some students, like Mershad, had found the place to be a haven for a little time of reflection, or for some uninterrupted study.
The only frequent group of visitors to the area, and by far the most boisterous, were a bevy of gray squirrels that inhabited the area. The feisty creatures were fun to observe at times, as they endlessly scampered about the soft grass and scurried about the trunks of the trees. They lunged into their network of branches and traversed them with an impressive agility and dexterity that always amazed Mershad.
Mershad’s ideal spot was a site tucked away almost directly under the street level, where he liked to sit with his back to the trunk of a maple tree.
Though he could still hear the cars going by overhead, the space afforded him a good nook where he could melt into the fabric of his personal oasis. With headphones on, he was lost in a world of his own.
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