The Remarkables (The Remarkable Owen Johnson, part 1)

by Elliott, A. D.

  “Crashed would be a better description. Full marks for take-off and flight; zero for your very poor landing,” Ken chuckled.

  Owen gave up trying to untie the rope, relenting to Ken’s superior skills with a knot. “Were you in the Boy Scouts or something?” Owen asked.

  “Hmm?” Ken queried. “Oh, the knot. Scouts? No. Army? Yes. My rope tying skills came in rather handy when we were on missions, didn’t they, Sis?”

  Mrs Argyle didn’t reply, preferring to furrow her brow instead.

  “You were in the army?” Owen asked Mrs Argyle. To look at her now, in her pristine mac and immovable hat, it seemed unlikely.

  “That’s Captain Argyle to you, boy,” Ken corrected him.

  “A captain, huh? Was that because no one dared to disobey your orders? I can sympathise with that,” Owen commented. Still no response from Mrs Argyle, although the corners of her mouth did travel upwards briefly.

  “She is quick to adopt a commanding tone,” Ken agreed, “but her promotions were more for her fighting prowess, than for her bossiness.”

  Fighting prowess? “So were you in battles then?” Owen asked, excited at the prospect of his former baby sitter being a decorated war veteran.

  “One or two,” Mrs Argyle answered, shooting an imperious glance at her brother that truly befitted her military rank. Ken opened his mouth as if to speak, but his sister’s glare soon silenced him. “I would have imagined that after the day you have just experienced, you would have more questions about yourself than of others.”

  “What do you mean?” Owen asked. “Oh! The flying and all that. At first it seemed strange, but now it seems….” Owen tried to continue, but couldn’t quite put how it felt into words.

  It was true, Owen was puzzled at this new found ability, but for some reason it seemed to make sense to him that he could reach out and pull himself along through the air. Explaining how natural it felt would be like describing how your heart knew that it had to pump blood around your body, or how your reflexes were tuned so as to enable you to duck when something was thrown at you.

  “Seems normal?” Ken ventured.

  “Yes. Like I’ve always been able to do it.”

  “You probably have. It only seems to manifest itself when your need is great enough,” Ken explained.

  “Is it the same for you both? Controlling and making wind and water, that is. Is that like what I can do?”

  “We can’t make or control anything. That’s not how it works. We merely…transfer the elements. What your gift entails is slightly different, but the mechanics are pretty much the same.” Ken steered the car into a layby, and turned around in his seat.

  “What I and little sis here do is move water and wind from one place to another.”

  “From where?” Owen asked.

  Ken smiled. “From here,” Ken pointed at the ground, “but also from elsewhere.” He waved his arms around him mystically.

  Owen thought about this statement for a short while, attempting to construct a question that would force a more cogent answer. In the end he settled for: “what?”

  Ken nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll try again.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around fully to face Owen. “My gift involves the transfer of water from another world to this one. Think of me as a walking and talking divining rod. I feel for water in other worlds, open up a small gateway, and the water pours into our world as if from a tap, like I showed you back at the barge.

  “For Cee, it’s wind. She feels for somewhere blustery then she opens up a gateway and passes wind.” Ken chuckled, whereas Mrs Argyle scowled at his choice of words.

  “To put it slightly more succinctly and less bawdily,” Mrs Argyle interrupted, “is that we can create openings to other worlds. Whatever is on the other side of the opening will find its way into this world, so long as the atmospheric pressures and such are conducive for it to do so.” Owen didn’t think that Mrs Argyle had quite managed to construct as concise an explanation as she perhaps intended.

  “How is it that you aren’t affected by it though? When you showed me your water trick back in the barge, you were completely dry,” Owen pointed out.

  “Aren’t we the observant one?” Ken judged. “I am affected by it, but only if I direct the spray towards me. And the pressure of it coming out would push me back if I didn’t anchor myself. But we seem to have some kind of buffer zone around the part of us that is making the opening. So my hands won’t get wet, and sis here won’t get chilblains. That’s probably why you don’t cut yourself when you climb.”

  Owen thought about this for a moment, recalling what had happened when he had climbed. “Most of the time when I’ve reached out I don’t get affected by what I’m grasping,” Owen recalled, “but back in the field before we came to your barge I stood still and grabbed onto something. That time I had what looked like chalk on my hands after I had let go.”

  Ken’s eyebrows darted upwards and Mrs Argyle frowned. “Now that is odd,” Ken said. “Best keep that snippet of information to yourself for now.” He glanced at his sister, their silent communication yet again not relinquishing any facts to Owen.

  “Okay,” Owen agreed, but vowed to himself to bring it up again later. For now another question had popped into his head. “What if there isn’t anything there?” Owen asked.

  “What do you mean?” Mrs Argyle replied.

  “Well, what if you open up a gateway and there’s no wind or water there?”

  “We always find what we’re looking for,” Ken explained proudly, “there’s no shortage of worlds after all.”

  “But the nearest planets are millions of miles away, and none of any of the ones near us have water on them. How can you open up gateways to them?”

  “The worlds that we connect with aren’t in our solar system. They’re not even in our universe.”

  “Then where are they?”

  “In other universes.”

  Owen thought for a moment, trying to recall the limited knowledge of astrophysics that he had acquired from school and, more extensively, television. “Like parallel universes?”

  “Exactly!” Ken exclaimed with a clap of his hands. “Cee, we’ve got a smart one here!”

  “Not really,” Owen admitted. “I’ve heard the term, but I don’t really understand it.”

  “Don’t knock yourself,” Ken said, “all you really need to know is that there are an infinite number of universes layered upon one another, each one different.

  “These differences can range from subtle changes such as a hedgehog deciding it won’t cross a busy road in one world, and getting squished in another. In one world the air might be still, whereas elsewhere there might be a stronger wind blowing, as a result of any number of causes, ranging from atmospheric variations to solar flares maybe.

  “But the differences can also be immense. Human life may not have evolved in the way it has here, or it may not exist at all. Another Earth may have a totally uninhabitable atmosphere.”

  “What would cause that?”

  “Who knows? A volcano that didn’t erupt here may have exploded elsewhere and filled the air with noxious gases that might poison or destroy the ozone layer. An ice age may have endured for whatever purpose. The reasons for such variations in our own world can be multiplied over and over and over again, manifesting themselves in any number of ways.

  “So right here, right now we are in the middle of a land mass, whereas in another world the tectonic plates may have moved differently and what we know as Britain is hundreds of feet below sea level. Or there might be a large lake over there.” Ken pointed at where a large warehouse stood. “Personally, I prefer fresh water to salt water: it tends to leave less of a mess behind once it dries.”

  Owen considered this. “So how come you can stand next to each other and one of you makes with the gusts and the other soaks everyone?”

  “Good question!” Ken responded. He stared at Owen intently for a few moments. “Any ideas?”

&nbs
p; “You’re asking me? How am I supposed to know?”

  “Well we don’t know for certain, so it’s always advisable to be open to other ideas. We do have theories, but none we’ve been able to prove. My favourite one, today at least, is that we somehow resonate towards particular worlds with certain characteristics.

  “I seem to like water, little sis here likes to blow up a storm”.

  “So what about me? What draws me to places with rocks and stones I can hold onto? And how come I can climb so well? Why don’t I get out of puff? Tonight I was flinging myself about all over the place without breaking into a sweat!”

  “More excellent questions! Again we don’t know why each of us is drawn to worlds with distinct characteristics. I for one never had an affinity with water, and Cee here wasn’t obsessed with flying kites. Have you ever had a thing for rocks?”

  Owen shook his head.

  “Well there you are; another mystery. But for whatever reason, you have a connection with worlds where there are rocks or stones for you to hold onto. There are so many worlds out there that in one of them there will be some geological formation for you to interact with. A dormant volcano perhaps, caused by a fracture in the Earth’s crust. Or a mountain that had been thrust up by the plates moving in a different way to how they did here.

  “As for how you can move around so athletically, again, we don’t know for sure but it would seem that whilst we are flitting about in other worlds, the laws of physics seem to get muddied somewhat. So your mass on this world seems to be diluted by the gravitational effects on the other world. So you’re not going to build up your muscles launching yourself about, alas. However, there are some benefits.” Ken smiled at his sister.

  “What benefits?” Owen asked.

  “How old do you think I am?” Mrs Argyle asked.

  He didn’t want to reveal that he had overheard them discussing their ages earlier, so Owen made a show of looking at Mrs Argyle, assessing her features and tried to match them up with the athleticism she had demonstrated earlier in the day. He sighed. “I wouldn’t like to say.”

  “And nor should you!” Ken laughed. “It would be very bad form to ask a lady her age. What about me?”

  Owen looked at Ken. “I dunno, fifty?” he offered, generously.

  “Ha! Nice try. Times it by two and a half and you’ll be closer!” Ken was beaming back at him.

  “One hundred and twenty five?” Owen exclaimed. “You’re one hundred and twenty five years old?” Even though he had by now had time to consider this revelation, it was still difficult to accept.

  “Actually, one hundred and thirty one, I think,” Ken corrected him. “Is that right?” he asked his sister.

  “Yes it is,” Mrs Argyle agreed. “And before you ask, he’s five years older than me so you can work my age out in your head, thank you very much,” she added curtly.

  Owen looked at Mrs Argyle and Ken in turn, trying not to appear too incredulous. He would have put at least a twenty year gap between his elderly neighbour and her younger looking brother.

  Evidently his acting skills were not up to much as Mrs Argyle scowled at him and Ken’s face broke into a grin. “She doesn’t look that old!” he laughed, revelling in Owen and Mrs Argyle’s discomfort.

  “I never said she did!” Owen exclaimed. “It’s just that….”

  “…I look older.” Mrs Argyle completed his sentence for him. “Thank you, Owen Johnston. Silver tongued as ever.”

  “Cut the boy some slack, Sis. He’s merely stating facts.” Against all odds Mrs Argyle’s scowl became more menacing, but Ken continued unperturbed as he swept his hands down the length of his body from head to toe. “These are the positive side effects, although some would argue otherwise.

  “The ability to slip into other worlds is akin to dipping one’s toe into the fountain of youth. Alas the effects are not equal from one person to another.” Ken tipped his head towards his sister, whose stern look had softened slightly.

  Owen slumped back in his seat and looked at his hands. So were they suggesting that he can actually reach into other worlds? But only since this morning? “How come it started today?” Owen asked. “I mean, I’ve never been able to do this before. Why this morning?”

  “More good questions! You’re on a roll!” Ken smiled. “As to why these abilities don’t manifest themselves until a certain age, we’re unsure. For us there was an obvious trigger and cause, and no delay. For yourself, that’s something that you’ll figure out in time.”

  Owen thought about what may have triggered it. “I was being chased by a gang of kids from school. I needed to escape and the only way was up, so I climbed. And not long ago I got chased by a dog and climbed up a tree I shouldn’t have been able to.” In the back of Owen’s mind there were other instances of him climbing, but they were hidden behind a clouded veil that he couldn’t penetrate.

  “Your need was great so that may have been why you realised what you could do. For us it was less subtle.”

  “What caused you to realise that you can do what you do?”

  Mrs Argyle turned to face Owen. “We were hit by a comet.”

  Beginnings

  Owen once again struggled for a constructive question to counter yet another bizarre statement, and once again he floundered. “What?”

  “We were hit by a comet,” Ken repeated his sister’s explanation, but still it made little sense.

  “As in a comet from space?”

  “The very same.”

  “But that would kill you!” Owen’s knowledge of celestial bodies was limited at best, but he had seen enough Hollywood disaster films to understand that they packed a somewhat significant punch.

  Ken stretched in his seat, resting his arms behind his head. “Oh it wasn’t a dinosaur-killing type of meteorite, I assure you. This one was much gentler. It lit up the sky, illuminated our little island, and then disappeared into the earth below, leaving no trace save for a sorry collection of farmers’ children on a hilltop to question what had happened.” Ken gestured towards the rear of the Land Rover. “And the odd cow that happened to be lowing nearby, of course.”

  “So it’s not just people that have these abilities?” Owen commented, recalling how Myrtle had tried to knock him over.

  “It seems to be limited to species with at least a modicum of intelligence,” Ken explained. “Put it this way: I’m yet to see a shrubbery with destructive powers.”

  “Okay,” Owen lied, in reality thinking that this explanation was far from being okay. “So it’s not just you three? Well, five, including me and Trilby.”

  This time it was Mrs Argyle’s turn to laugh, but there was sadness about her features. “If only it was.”

  Mrs Argyle took off her seatbelt and made herself comfortable as well. Owen tried to do the same, anticipating that the explanation would be detailed, but was still unable to undo the rope.

  “We lived on a small island in the Orkneys. Back then we were isolated from the rest of the islands and indeed the Scottish mainland itself, as none of the causeways had been built by this point. There was a handful of farming families on the island, keeping mostly sheep. Except our father of course, who had also managed to acquire a single cow thanks to a lucky shake of the dice.” Mrs Argyle paused to point at the cow hidden in the box behind the car.

  “One particularly cold - as I recall it - January night we were at a neighbouring farmer’s house to welcome a new addition to their household. Even though it was in the throes of winter, it was such a light evening.” Mrs Argyle looked at her brother who nodded in agreement.

  “This dope here had taken to walking the cow around like a dog, tying a rope to its neck and leading it about. The silly beast seemed quite content in its unusual role as house pet. She probably realised that this would keep her hide safe, always far too clever for her own good.

  “Anyhow, we’d paid our respects and were stood outside with the neighbour’s boy, who was a couple of year’s older than me, and his ol
der cousin who had lived there since her parents had succumbed to a nasty bout of consumption a few years prior.”

  “You didn’t mention how much of a thing that boy had for you Cee,” Ken pointed out.

  “That won’t be factoring in this story, thank you Brother,” Mrs Argyle said sternly. “As I was about to say, we were just in the process of coming up with names for the wee bairn, when we saw that one of the stars was brighter than normal, and it didn’t take much longer to realise that it was moving. At first we were excited as we thought it was a shooting star. But instead of moving across the sky as you’d expect, this one was travelling toward us, growing from a small dot to the size that you’d expect the sun to appear, then bigger still.

  “Within moments the night sky became so bright it was as if all the stars had come together as one. We ran to a nearby hill so that we could see the island lit up; two girls, two boys, and a cow.

  “We stood on that hill and could see every inch of the island, from coast to coast. Not that far admittedly, but at that time of year you were lucky to see beyond the edge of the field that you were standing in. As we stood there we watched as the sky grew brighter still; brighter than noon on a summer’s day.

  “I admit that I was terrified by what was occurring, but it was at the same time quite beautiful. The brightness grew more intense until we couldn’t properly see each other’s faces; just eyes, nostrils and lips surrounded by hair. But however bright the light was, it didn’t make our eyes burn, like when you stare at the sun for too long.

  “Finally we could see nothing but white everywhere. I could feel every part of my body tingle, every cell vibrating as if they were doing a merry dance. I couldn’t move, even though I tried. It was like I was tethered to the spot by a million invisible ropes.

  “Then just as the entire world became a white nothingness, the darkness of night returned and all was normal again.”

  Mrs Argyle became quiet, and gazed out of the window. Ken continued the tale.

  “The experience was the same for me and, as far as I know, the others also. After that we soon found that we had changed somewhat. My hands continued to pulse as if my blood was charged. I was stood with my hands clasped together, as if in prayer I suppose. After all, it was all rather celestial! Then Celia staggered and I went to steady her but as soon as my hands moved apart I released a torrent of water directly at her.