Then she saw it a split-second before Jack pointed ahead.
“There,” he said.
Alice said nothing at first, and Jack couldn’t tell what her reaction was because he was sitting behind her.
But her eyes widened at the sight. Almost instantly, they blurred with tears. She thought of Jack’s absences—how he’d disappeared for the entire season, and everything made sense to her now. Jack had labored for more than the spring, and perhaps spring was when he’d worked the hardest, because what she was looking at couldn’t have been completed in a single year. It must’ve taken longer. She thought about the wagon wheel that day in the summer, the hubcap he’d picked up off the street, the boards he’d carried and dragged to his house. The idea had been with him then, and he’d labored, planned, and put into execution what she was looking at now. Yes, his father must’ve helped, too, the reason the man had blushed, the reason Jack had looked guilty that day in school when she’d asked him where he’d been. They must’ve loaded the truck with countless supplies, driven all the way out here—despite not having any roads—and begun to build. Every miscellaneous item, every random trinket, board, object, artifact—whatever Jack could find to build this tiny edifice before them. In a haphazard, yet beautiful fashion, he’d built what could only be—according to Jack’s childlike imagination—a castle for his Juliet.
“How do you like it?” Jack said.
Alice was at a loss for words. All she could do—for the moment—was shake her head.
She’d never seen anything like it. The sight was charming and magnificent at the same time. It was elementary, yet magnanimous. It was magical. Not as big as a real castle, of course. That would’ve been impossible, though perhaps not to Jack, who’d have labored over its size, regardless. This was a castle for the likes of little people, for elves, dwarves, or perhaps Ooompa-Loompas. It was a castle for children. As Alice looked at it, she saw everything that Jack had gathered over the year, and wondered how often he’d gone into town, rummaging through alleyways to find the things he needed to build it. The wagon wheel had been meshed together with other boards to make the west wall. Two-by-fours crisscrossed and gave the entire structure a sense of order and planning. She even saw the hubcap on the side of the tower, like a makeshift window. Now, it caught the sun, and sent out a blinding pillar of light. The cowboy hat she’d lost when Pooper had ground into the earth had been repaired and now hung on the front door. The entire structure—from the base to its highest tower—was makeshift and childlike in its formation, yet elegantly detailed in others. She pictured Jack and his father working on it, and could see who had labored over each section. Only a child could have made this, planned it, and have it turn out the way it did. Only a child could have constructed—at the same time—such brilliance alongside such charm. It was a castle, indeed, on a much smaller scale, but to Alice, it was the grandest thing she’d ever seen. In all aspects, a castle made of wood and stone stood before her, made with sundry items along the way: metal, plastic, wire, and whatever Jack could find. And then she realized what gave the setting its sense of magic and fantasy. Disbelief stunned her again. It lay in the landscaping, the stones that had been gathered to border the small stream—a mote—she now realized. A bridge with handrails and posts—obviously, Phillip’s doing—had been built over the water. Flowers had been planted here and there. If Alice didn’t know any better, she’d say everyone she knew had had a hand in its construction in some fashion or another. The hand of her mother and father had been at work, Fred and Emily, too, perhaps. But in every aspect, it could only be Jack who’d come up with the idea, who’d put the entire thing into execution, laid the groundwork, the planning, supervised, had a hand in every piece of stone and wood, making it perfect, not the way he wanted it, but the way Alice would like it. His Juliet.
Jack climbed off Sue, walked ahead for a short distance, and stared at what he’d made. He turned back to Alice.
“Jack,” Alice said, unable to take her eyes off it. “I…just…I don’t know what to say…”
“How about, ‘Welcome to the Halls of Castle Juliet,’” Jack said, smiling. “Like the Christmas present I made, only on a much larger scale. You didn’t think that would be the only castle I built for you, did you, Alice dear?”
“But…” Alice tried to say. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this, Jack?” She was not looking at Jack at all. Her eyes were riveted to the castle, the landscaping, the stream. She could barely grasp how it was possible.
Jack looked at Alice as if the reason were obvious. He shrugged. “Because I love you, Alice. I wanted to do this for you. You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had. Sometimes, my only friend. You’ve helped me with so much, played with me on my adventures, laughed and cried with me. I wanted to do something nice for you, the only way I could think of, so you’d know how much I love and appreciate you. For everything you’ve done, I built this castle for you.” Jack smiled. “Are you surprised?”
Alice wiped tears from her eyes, too stunned for words. “I’m kind of numb all over, Jack.”
Just as reverently, she slid off Sue, walked over to Jack, and put her arms around his neck. She kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Jack,” she said.
“Alice, you kissed me!” Jack said, putting his fingers to his cheek. “Are you all right?”
Alice laughed and wiped more tears from her eyes. “Never better,” she said.
She was quiet for a while before she said, “Jack? This has been the best year I’ve ever had.”
Jack smiled. “That’s because you give so much of yourself, Alice, without asking anything in return. I’m glad you like the castle. We can go inside it, you know? I made a throne especially for you.”
Alice laughed before she realized Jack was serious. “How did you do all this, Jack?”
“I had help,” he said.
Alice grabbed the reigns of Sue and watched Boxer, who was already over the bridge, inspecting the castle.
“Your dad?” Alice said.
“Yes,” Jack said.
They crossed the bridge. Alice tied Sue’s reigns to the handrail on the other side of the bridge. Boxer ran, wagging his tail, sniffing and inspecting every part of it.
“Dad and a friend,” Jack said.
Alice looked his way. “What friend?”
Jack walked up to the castle door and knocked. “You can come out now!”
This got Boxer’s attention, too.
The door opened and Tork McGuckin stepped out and onto the grass. Alice almost fainted. Tork smiled wide, bowed like a gentleman, sweeping his hand in the direction of the castle. “Milady,” he said. “Thy kingdom awaits!”
Alice’s mouth hung open.
“When I asked Tork if he wanted to help me finish the castle,” Jack said, “you should have seen his face. Over the past month, he was more excited about it than I was. I think he wants to live out here!”
Tork and Jack exchanged a smile.
Again, Alice was speechless. Her heart had leapt into her throat when she saw Tork. Despite what he’d said in school, there was still and aspect about him that terrified her. The light in his eyes was different than it had been last summer. Tork McGuckin was just a big teddy bear. He looked ominous, wore the same rebellious tattered clothes, but at heart, he was nothing more than a gentle giant.
“Guess who Tork’s favorite character is, Alice?” Jack said.
Alice’s mind was reeling so fast it took all her energy to mutter: “I…I don’t know.”
“Lancelot!” Jack said, and laughed uproariously. “Why, the whole time we were putting the finishing touches on the castle, Lancelot was all he would talk about. Lancelot this, and Lancelot that. I almost started throwing rocks at him!”
“And Jack was ordering me around as if he were King Arthur himself,” Tork said. They high-fived each other. “He can be a little bossy sometimes.”
“Hee-he
e,” Jack said. “But not without good reason!” And now they all burst out laughing, and Boxer barked. Even Sue snorted and flicked her ears.
“So, Milady,” Tork said. “Would you like to step inside and take a seat upon thy throne?”
Alice still couldn’t believe it, but standing here, questioning everything wasn’t going to make her understand. It was best to accept and go with it.
Jack opened the door, and they stepped inside. A small stairway to their right led to another small room—what Alice supposed was the north tower, perhaps too small to enter, but just as magical and charming. There was a small table, a dais, a chair made to look like a throne directly in the middle of the main floor. Extensions of wood had been connected to the small, simple chair to make it look more elaborate.
“A castle and a throne for a queen,” Jack said.
Alice sat down in the chair and thought about how this must look, her sitting like a queen with her cowboy boots and cowboy hat on, Jack with his top-hat, and Tork with his snarling pig tattoo on his bicep.
“What is thy first rule or order, milady?” Tork said. He knelt on one knee, bowing his head, a completely different person altogether.
“Or rule of business,” Jack said, grinning. He and Tork stood on either side of the thrown, awaiting orders from their Queen. “Does King Arthur have any news, milady? Has the Queen officially taken over Camelot? We are your servants, Juliet.”
Alice smiled. “First rule of business,” she said. “Pink lasers through every portal and doorway of space.”
“Consider it done,” Jack said.
“Next rule of business,” Alice said.
“Yes?” Tork said.
“We shall learn to stop time. We will make this castle a time machine, so we can come back here whenever we feel like it, whenever we need to. And we will always be the best of friends. That, my dear servants, is an order.”
Jack looked at Tork. “Any problems with the second rule, Sir Knight?” Jack asked.
“None, sir,” Tork agreed. “Heck, I just barely learned how to be a kid. This is all pretty cool, if you ask me. I mean, what’s up with this Holy Grail business anyway? You’d think it just fell out of the sky or something!”
Alice and Jack burst out laughing. Tork looked confused for a moment, then joined in.
“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he said. “But I like it, Jacky-boy. Raise the flag! Raise the flag! Camelot is saved! We have found our Queen!”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Jack said, and bowed.
Alice closed her eyes and savored the moment. She didn’t care that she was crying still; she hardly noticed, and besides, these were tears of joy.
So, the real adventure had only begun, and they came back whenever they wanted. They played until time ran out, which it never did, because this was a fantasy, and the magic was real. You can’t tell children what to do when they are at the height of their imaginations. They make up their own rules. This particular fantasy, of course, hadn’t any rules to begin with, so that left them to do what they wanted, when they wanted, anytime they wanted. So, the summer, when it finally came, lasted forever, and that is the definition of immortality…
About the Author:
Brandon Berntson has been writing speculative fiction for more than twenty years. He has been featured in various anthologies and has published several novellas along with a collection of horror stories called Body of Immorality. He is also the author of Castle Juliet and When We Were Dragons, enchanting, magical reads for all ages. "A really great story has a little bit of everything in it, and should do so much more than just entertain. It should be an experience. Those are the tales with lasting power." Brandon loves horror, fantasy, the classics, YA, and incorporates a little of each into his tales. A fan of ice hockey, Bugs Bunny cartoons, long walks, and classic movies, he makes his home in Boulder, Colorado. Visit him at www.brandonberntson.com
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