A Tiny Bit Mortal

by Lindsay Bassett

  I took a deep breath. “What do we do now?” I asked. “Should I call Muriel?”

  He nodded.

  I walked over to a phone that sat on a table in the far corner of the room and dialed the number to Muriel’s cell phone. “Yes?” she asked.

  “It’s me.” I said. “My dad is after me.”

  “Stay where you are.” she said.

  A few minutes later she appeared in the doorway. “I’ve got this place, and my place, crawling with guards.” she said. “There’s no sign of him.”

  She came closer and put her hands on my shoulders. “Tell me what happened.” she said. I told her how he appeared in the bathroom behind me, and wouldn’t let me leave. I told her how I escaped and ran away with Tim.

  “Good.” she said, letting go of me and pacing back and forth with the sound of her heels echoing in the foyer. After several minutes of pacing, she stopped to face us. “I think,” she said. “that you are loyal to me. Don’t leave the house without the blood, and I think you’ll be too quick for any of them. Just as a precaution, we will send someone ahead of you when you go, to make sure it’s free from those idiots.”

  Muriel turned on her heels and walked out the front door. Following Tim up to his bedroom, I attempted to calm myself along the way. Climbing into his bed, I felt sleepy. Tim climbed in next to me, facing me, looking concerned. “I’m fine.” I said. “I’m glad I’m safe.”

  “Em..” he said, searching my eyes. “That was your dad.”

  I looked at him, confused. “Was.” I said. “Can we not talk about that?”

  I ran my fingers along his abdomen, and he grabbed my hand and held it. “He loves you, Em.” he said.

  I looked away. “Why would you say that?” I asked. “I don’t like this side of you.”

  He put his hand on my cheek and turned my face towards him. I looked into his eyes and felt lost in the blue sky of them. “You are in deep, Em.” he said. “I am in deep. I have been doing this for hundreds of years. I know there’s no turning back. I know what I am.”

  He was quiet for a minute, and then a tear fell down his cheek. “Sometimes I wish I could convince you to go back.” he said. “But I’m selfish, and I want you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I look at the emptiness in the eyes of my masters,” he said. “and of my own parents. They followed the same path that we are on now, and that’s where it’s gotten them. Empty.”

  I thought back to the beady little eyes of the falcon headed man, and his bearded witness to my test. He did seem hollow. Both men were icy cold, like all the humor and joy of life had been gutted out of them.

  I looked into Tim’s eyes, into the blue, and he was so full of life. Remembering the sound of his laughter, I watched in my mind as we ran hand in hand through the garden. “You bring that out in me, you know.” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I can see on your face what you’re seeing in your minds eye.” he said. “You’ve awakened me, Em. You make me feel alive.”

  “Who says that I will become empty, Tim?” I asked. “I don’t have to change.” He leaned in close to me and said “You just turned away the love of your own father. How does that make you feel inside?”

  I searched in my mind. At first I felt the relief that I’d been feeling earlier from the escape. Then I went back in my mind to the picture of my Dad’s face as he blocked my way to the exit in the bathroom. His concerned face.

  Remembering his eyes, I saw the love in them. Instinctively, I shoved the picture him away in my mind. I pushed him far, far away, until he no longer existed.

  Taking a deep breath, I was dwelling in my satisfaction. Then it hit me. There was a big empty hole inside me where my dad had been.

  XIV

  The Cell

  The next morning I flipped over onto my stomach, propping up my chin with my hands. There were two things that ran through my head over and over again, like scrolling text on a neon sign. For one, the way Tim exposed his feelings to me. The other thing was the big empty hole inside me where my dad had been before.

  I had pushed my dad out of my mind so violently the night before that I couldn’t even picture him in my mind anymore. It was like I saw him the first time in the coffee shop and was only able to see him in pieces. I could see his dark hair or his ivory skin, but the rest of him was gone.

  Removing one of my hands off of my chin I traced circles on my pillow. Tim had said that he wished sometimes that he could convince me to go back. Seeing the way he looked at me in my mind, I could see his genuine love for me.

  I had turned my back on Peter. I had turned my back on my dad. I wondered if I would eventually turn my back on Tim. I thought “Maybe that’s my destiny. A trail of wounded behind me on my path to power.”

  If my destiny was to end up cold and empty like those men that tested me, then I wasn’t sure I wanted it. I knew it wasn’t right. “Fuck power.” I said, into my pillow.

  Pushing myself up from my stomach and onto my knees, I didn’t know where to go, or what to do, but I was determined to save Tim and myself from the train wreck we were in.

  Walking with Tim down the path to the garden, I pulled him into the private space in the bushes where we had met up before. I pulled him close and whispered “Let’s run away together.”

  He stepped backwards and looked down at the ground. By the expressions on his face, I could see the turmoil he was experiencing in his mind. “Em.” he said, looking at me seriously. “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere.” I said. “Let’s just run and run until we are all alone. I don’t need any of these luxuries. We could live in the woods for all I care. I just want to be with you.”

  “But if we are caught…” he said, staring off into the distance. “Oh Em, I wouldn’t want that for you. They would do terrible things to you.”

  I felt a chill and brushed it off. “It’s worth it.” I said. “You are worth it.”

  He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I nuzzled my head into his shoulder. “You are sure?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” I said.

  He let go of me and then looked around him. He smoothed out his suit. “Okay.” he said. “Tonight?”

  I nodded.

  “I love you, Em.” he whispered.

  “I love you too, Tim.” I whispered back, looking into his eyes. He looked every bit as happy as I felt.

  Walking slowly back to the house, I did everything I could to calm my nerves. Shoving our plan to the back of my mind, I headed upstairs to my room. As I stepped into the room I could feel anger vibrating in the air.

  I froze just inside the door. Muriel was standing in the living room with her arms out to her sides and her hands balled into fists. The look on her face was furious.

  I glanced at the door. “Don’t even think about it.” she said sharply.

  “Muriel?” I asked. In an instant she was a blur and then standing behind me, pinning my arms down to my sides. I struggled to move. She lifted me, like a child, and the more I struggled the more her grip around my body tightened.

  My room flashed by and then we were down the stairs. I could see the walls of the hall pass by us in a blur. I felt my stomach lurch as it fell like we were falling and twisting down the winding stairs to her hall. At the end of the hall, behind her throne, we passed through another door and descended another stairwell.

  Suddenly we were still. A robed figure opened up a door to a barred cell, and Muriel threw me in. My head and back slammed against a stone wall, knocking the air out of me before I could even attempt to react. I held on to the back of my head and then pulled my hand away to see blood on it. “Muriel?” I asked again, as she slammed the door closed.

  “You bitch!” she roared. “You fucking bitch!”

  “Muriel,” I said, with tears streaming down my face. “Please.”

  “I warned you.” she said. “Now I have to go deal with Tim. I can’t believe you two would go this f
ar.”

  “Muriel.” I said.

  “Shut up.” she said. “I am being a good mother to you. I’ll let you out in a month. Maybe you will have learned your lesson by then and actually be thankful for what I provide.”

  Muriel left, and I sank to my knees, weeping. At first I thought my cries were echoing, and then I realized that there were others crying around me. I quieted myself and listened to the eerie wailing and weeping through the darkness.

  Looking down at the blood on my hand, I remembered I was injured. It took all of my strength to heal my wound, and I fell to my side and passed out.

  I woke up to the sound of weeping. “Whyyyy?” cried out a voice. It was awful. By the door of my cell sat a wooden tray, with a wooden cup of wine and a piece of bread. Thirsty and famished, I drank down the wine and consumed the bread. The wine buzzed through my head.

  “Tim.” I said, out loud. “Oh God, what have I done?” I crumpled over with my face on the cool stone floor. Wondering if Tim might also be in a cell, I pushed myself up to my knees. “Tim!” I howled, wondering if he was in a cell too. “Tiiiim!”

  With no answer, I hunched my back over and began sobbing. Crying and moaning, I sang along with the miserable weeping chorus in the darkness.

  “He’s not here.” said a deep voice. I sat up and looked to my right where the voice came from. The room was dark, but I could faintly see a figure in the cell next to me.

  “How do you know he’s not here?” I asked.

  “If I tell you,” he said, “will you promise to stop all of that crying?”

  “Yes.” I said, wiping my tears from my face with the backs of my hands. “I promise.”

  “You didn’t hear the woman, Muriel, talking to you yesterday?” he asked.

  “No.” I said. “I think I’ve been out for a while.”

  “She was ranting about some man named Tim.” he said. “He attempted to rescue you and wounded a bunch of her men before she subdued him. She said that it is only because she cares for you that she convinced him to go be with his parents in Europe. It was either that, or she would tell his father everything and he would end up in a cell for a few hundred years.”

  He began a low, raspy chuckle.

  “How is that funny?” I asked.

  “I know what it’s like to sit in a cell for a few hundred years.” he said.

  “Oh.” I said.

  “He made the right choice.” he said.

  “There was no right choice.” I said.

  I shivered. It was cold in my cell, and I was still wearing a tight little dress.

  “I’m glad he’s okay.” I said, breathlessly.

  “What was your crime?” he asked.

  “Love.” I said, wrapping my arms around my knees, letting my hair fall over my legs like a blanket.

  I heard rustling and saw the figure approaching. He wrapped a very large hand around one of the bars and peered through at me.

  His eyes were a sky blue, like Tim’s. He had long, wavy blond hair and a beard of the same texture. He reminded me of the bearded man in the Hall of Elders that had been playing with my hair. The memory made me smile.

  “That is the first smile I’ve seen in over a hundred years.” he said. Looking off into the distance he said “It won’t last long in here.”

  Crawling across the floor I sat next to him, looking at him through the bars between us. “What was your crime?” I asked.

  “Oh.” he said, looking across the room at nothing. “I...I don’t recall. So many years I’ve just closed my eyes and slept.”

  I listened again to the weeping. It didn’t ever seem to stop. Concentrating, I tried to discern the echoing cries to get an idea of how many people there were. It sounded like there were over a hundred, but it was difficult to tell with the echoes. “What is this place?” I asked.

  “Hell, I think.” he said.

  As the day wore on I picked myself up from the floor and searched around the cell. It was dank, and musty smelling, everything made from stone. There was a hole in the floor in one corner, and I knew what it was for by the awful smell wafting up through it. Everything else was bare, cold stone.

  Repositioning from my back to my bottom to my stomach to my side, I was unable to find a position that was comfortable. The floor was hard and cold. I shivered and ached all over.

  A figure appeared outside my cell, removing the old tray and replacing it with a new tray. It contained the same things - a wooden cup of wine and a piece of bread. Drinking down the wine, I appreciated the warmth that bloomed inside me. When I ate the bread, I noticed the cries seemed to die down for just a moment, and then the picked back up again.

  Standing up to walk around my cell I began stumbling around. I was drunk, off a single glass of wine. Stumbling, I fell into a corner. My arm hurt, and I could feel tears falling from my face. I sobbed. “You promised.” said the deep voice.

  I took in a deep breath. “I’m ssss-orry.” I said, slurring my speech. Through the haze I tried really hard to sober myself up and remove the alcohol from my body. Nothing was working. I felt weak and empty.

  Crossing my legs, I sat up straight. I took in some deep breaths and began meditating. The whole room rocked back and forth like I was in a boat.

  The hours passed by and I was silent. I let myself cry a little inside my mind, but I wouldn’t let myself forget my promise to the man in the cell next to me.

  After I finally sobered up I paced around the cell for hours more. Just as my thirst began to intensify, the trays were switched out again. I looked down at the cup of wine. If I didn’t drink it, I would get dehydrated. I could die there.

  Concentrating on the wine, I said “leave” to the alcohol. It didn’t work, but I drank it anyway. That time I was ready for the drunkenness and positioned myself in the same meditative pose.

  Repeating the same routine of meditating until I was sobered up, I paced until my new tray arrived. I memorized the number each time, counting my trays. The count was at twenty.

  I figured by my comprehension of the time passing that I was being served two trays a day. That made ten days in the cell.

  Sober and pacing, I heard my neighbor break his silence. “You are a strong one.” he said.

  “Ha!” I said, still pacing. “I have never felt weaker.”

  My new tray arrived, and I picked up the wooden cup of wine. “Bring that here.” he said.

  Hesitantly I complied, handing him my cup through the bars. “Would you please leave the cup for my little friend?” he asked into the cup, in a sweet voice, like he was speaking to a kitten. He handed it back to me, and I took it into my hands. I held it up to my face and smelled it. The alcohol was gone.

  I drank it, and it quenched my thirst. I’d never been without water and I’d really taken the feeling of satiated thirst for granted. After a great sigh I took in a deep breath. “Thank you.” I said.

  “Thank you,” he said, “for being able to keep a promise. You are a good woman.”

  “Ha.” I said. “I wish I was.”

  “I believe you are.” he said.

  “I had my father, and Peter.” I said. “They loved me. I disobeyed them to save my mother and came here, full of pride, thinking I could somehow keep from losing myself in this place.”

  I looked over at him, and he was looking at me with his blue eyes, his face gentle and listening. So I continued.

  “The first night I was here I slept with a stranger.” I said. “I felt so ashamed, that I knew I couldn’t go back to my dad and Peter. Then I didn’t want to go back. I fell in love with power, and then Tim. I asked Tim to run away with me. I loved him more than any amount of power.”

  Telling the whole story filled me with sorrow. I put my face down on my knees. He was silent for some time and then he said “There are two things in that story that make you a good woman. You left safety and faced danger to save someone you care about more than yourself. The other is that you chose love over power.”

&nb
sp; “But I…” I began to say, lifting my head to speak.

  “But you what?” he said, interrupting. “You gave in to temptation and stupidity a few times?”

  He chuckled. “We’ve all done that from time to time.”

  “I’ve caused pain.” I said.

  “Yes.” he said. “We all do. Immortal or mortal, we all do.”

  We sat in silence for a while. Sitting close to him, I noticed could his warmth radiating through the bars. It was comforting. “Will you stay sitting here with me for a while?” I asked. “I’ve been so cold.” Without a word he leaned in closer to me, and I to him, and I fell into a deep sleep.

  Waking up cold, I heard a shuffling sound in the cell next to me. The figure appeared, retrieving and slipping trays into the cells. Looking into the cell next to me I saw that the bearded man was curled up in the corner.

  Picking up my tray I stared at the wine in the wooden cup. I didn’t want to burden him to remove the alcohol, so I began to lift it up to my lips. As it touched my lips I heard him say “don’t.”

  Peering through the bars I saw him approaching. “I didn’t want them to see me awake.” he said, whispering to me through the bars. “They only put you next to me because I haven't moved from the corner in ages. I've been the equivalent of a dead immortal. We have to keep our talking a secret.”

  I smiled at him through the bars, and he smiled back. There was a twinkle in his eye. “I was thinking.” he said. “I was trying to remember my life before I came here. I have remembered some things. I am a prisoner of war.”

  “What war?” I asked.

  “Well,” he said. “I was fighting alongside my brothers and sons, for territory. So many of us came out west, for solitude. The Corrupt had moved in and pushed us north, overwhelming us with their numbers. We pushed back, and I was captured. The year was 1710.”

  I tried to imagine being in the dark cell, listening to the sorrowful cries for that long. I shuddered. “I would go insane.” I said.

  He chuckled. “There is a way to be in a place, without being in that place.” he said. “I sleep. I figure maybe one day I will wake up and be free from my cell.”