Have You Seen Tarum?

by Jaleta Clegg

Have You Seen Tarum?

  Jaleta Clegg

  Copyright 2010 Jaleta Clegg

  "Have you seen Tarum?" The old man grasped Kimberly's arm.

  Kimberly Smith glanced into his watery blue eyes, clouded and vague with age.

  "Have you seen Tarum?" He tugged her sleeve. "Please, have you seen Tarum?"

  "I don't know who you're talking about." She tried to lift his hand from her arm.

  Miss Atha, the caretaker of Shady Meadows, a solid middle-aged woman, hurried towards him. "Mr. Jefferies, please, don't bother the guests. Sorry, Miss Smith. He gets like this sometimes, always asking about Tarum."

  Mr. Jefferies tottered, catching Kimberly's gaze, his face set in lines of bewilderment, his hair a wild tangle of white. Miss Atha patted his arm and turned him away with soothing words.

  The encounter unsettled Kimberly, as if she should have known Tarum. She shrugged it off as she knocked on her grandmother's door. All she had in the world was Gran. She smiled as she entered the room.

  "Kimberly, dear!" Gran's voice quavered. She held out her arthritic hands.

  Kimberly crossed the room to kneel next to Gran's wheelchair. She smiled and gently squeezed Gran's hands, frail with age, no longer strong.

  "Hi, Gran. Sorry I'm late again. I had to close up the shop and there were a million little things to take care of before I could leave. But it's Tuesday, visitor's day, and I couldn't miss seeing you. How are you?"

  "The same, dear. Old." Gran laughed. "Enough about me. Tell me about you. What's new with that beau of yours?"

  "He isn't my beau." Kimberly let go of her grandmother's hands and stood. She fidgeted as she talked, straightening the shades, rearranging the knickknacks on the dresser. "Taylor isn't a gentleman, either. He wanted me to go home with him after the second date. I told him I wasn't that kind of girl. He tried to force the issue. I called the cops."

  Gran sighed. "It wasn't that way when I was girl. Men respected us, treated us like jewels, like queens." She plucked at the afghan over her lap, garish yellow and red yarn twisted into looping flowers. "What about the other one, Percy wasn't it? He sounded nice."

  "He's just a customer, Gran."

  "One who visits the store almost every day. I think he's sweet on you." Gran's smile teased.

  "He's short, almost bald, and wears glasses thick enough to cook on."

  "Appearances aren't everything, dear."

  The door to the room burst open. Mr. Jefferies stood in the doorway. He fixed his gaze on Kimberly, his eyes wild. "Please, have you seen Tarum? I have to know. Have you seen Tarum?"

  Kimberly's stomach knotted at the name. She should know Tarum. She felt the desperation in the old man's question. She reached her hand to him, an apology on her lips.

  "Mr. Jefferies!"

  Miss Atha hurried to the door, followed by several attendants. They took Mr. Jefferies by the arm, leading him away.

  "I am so sorry, Miss Smith. I honestly don't know what's gotten into him tonight." Miss Atha bustled away, closing the door behind her.

  "Poor man," Gran said. "Always asking about Tarum. No one knows who or what it is and he can't tell us. Poor dear." She leaned forward in her wheelchair. "Have I told you about our Go Fish tournament? Five games and I'm considered the favorite to win."

  Kimberly relaxed as she listened to Gran's stories, the odd anxiety over Mr. Jefferies slipping away.

  * * *

  "It's late, Gran. See you next Tuesday?"

  "Of course, dear." Gran lifted her withered cheek for a kiss. "Drive carefully now."

  "Always." Kimberly gave Gran a smile that faded as she let the door close. She had little to look forward to—an empty apartment, a frozen dinner, and another week of drudgery running the store for Greg Thompson. She had no family except for Gran. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she walked to the entrance of Shady Meadows.

  Miss Atha stood in the lobby surrounded by attendants.

  "I searched the kitchens," one said. "There's no sign of him. He may have gone onto the grounds."

  "It will be dark soon," Miss Atha said, her face pinched with worry. "We have to find him."

  "It's dinner time, most of us are needed for that."

  "Then take Thomas and Liz. The three of you will have to search the grounds." Miss Atha caught sight of Kimberly and pasted a smile on her face. "I trust your visit was pleasant?"

  "Is there something I can do to help?" Kimberly offered. "I really don't need to be anywhere."

  "Would you?" Miss Atha's false smile vanished. "Mr. Jefferies is much worse than usual. He slipped away from Carl. We can't seem to find him. Would you mind terribly helping us search for him?"

  "I'd be happy to help."

  "He's probably out in the woods." White scrubs didn't hide Carl's muscular frame. "Stick with Thomas so we won't have to go looking for you, too"

  Kimberly followed the three attendants onto the grounds. What had possessed her to volunteer? The thought of yet another lonely evening and unappetizing processed food, she answered herself. She felt sorry for the old man. He seemed so lost. Miss Atha had been more than generous to Kimberly and her Gran, taking in Gran even though her waiting list was long and Kimberly scraped to pay the monthly fee. She owed Miss Atha something.

  The evening dusk deepened. The summer breeze blew warm, whispering in the flowers and trees dotting the grounds.

  "Go that way, search near the pines." Carl waved at the far edge. "He's got something for the trees. Crazy old man," he said with affection.

  Kimberly headed for the stand of trees. The dark shadows stretched like long witches' fingers. She shivered in a sudden chill. The unfriendly night hid darkness deeper than it should have been.

  "Imagination. Just your imagination," she whispered as she brushed past the thick pine tree into the shadows beyond. "Mr. Jefferies?" It came out timid. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Mr. Jefferies?"

  The pine needles muffled her footsteps in thick drifts. She peered into the shadows, searching for the old man. She saw something in the gloom under a sweeping oak tree.

  **

  "Mr. Jefferies?"

  He huddled under the tree, shivering when she touched his shoulder.

  "Have you seen Tarum?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand gripped hers, stronger than she expected. He pulled himself to his feet, staring at her face in the gloomy shadows. "Have you seen Tarum? You see, I've lost it somewhere. You have to have seen it. It's reflected in your face."

  "Mr. Jefferies—"

  "No. That isn't right."

  "Come back, please. Miss Atha is worried about you."

  "I have to find Tarum. You know the way. You must know the way because, you see, I've forgotten it." His eyes burned with conviction. He stood taller than before, straighter. He held her hands tightly. "Through the acorn. You have to know."

  She shook her head. He pulled her down to the earth under the oak tree. He freed one hand to scrabble through fallen leaves.

  "We have to find the acorn so we can find Tarum. We have little time. You are almost too late."

  "Mr. Jefferies, you need to go back now."

  He lifted an acorn and held it reverently. The faintest glimmer of light surrounded it.

  "Through the acorn." He twisted it between his aged fingers. "I can't remember how. But you can. You know the way. You have to remember." He curled her fingers around the acorn, cupping her hands in his. "Have you seen Tarum?"

  She looked into his eyes, the acorn rough under her fingers. The light faded, full night was coming. The shadows loomed, threatening and dark.

  "Remember," he whispered. His voice resonated in her mind, echoing through memories she didn't know she possessed.

  The
acorn in their entwined hands glowed with golden light. She bent closer, her breath caressing the seed of the giant tree that sheltered them. Her mind opened.

  "Tarum."

  * * *

  Mr. Jeffries straightened, his vague bewilderment gone. He stood young and full of vigor, his eyes impossibly blue, his hair golden as sunlight. He smiled.

  "My liege." The words came without Kim willing them, rising from some buried memory. "King of Tarum."

  "My Knight Protector. I've waited long for your return. Almost too long." He lifted her to her feet.

  She stared, trapped by his eyes, unable to look away. Her dreary life slipped away. She was not Kimberly Smith, clerk at a rundown corner market. She was Amberlyn, Knight Protector of Tarum. And he was not Mr. Jefferies, but Logarth, King of Tarum.

  "The spell was too strong," Logarth spoke. "I could not break it myself. I had to wait for you to awaken. And remember."

  She closed her eyes as he touched her brow. She remembered golden sunlight, wide meadows sprinkled with bright smiles of flowers, rich forests of green, skies of deep blue, the same as his eyes. She remembered Tarum. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Tarum.

  Darkness swallowed them, full of evil shadows and tangled thorn; no sunlight, no meadows, no flowers. The ancient trees threatened with gnarled branches. The breeze stank of rotting vegetation and mold.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  "My brother, Lethian." Logarth stepped away, tearing at a tangle of vines.

  "This isn't real," she whispered. She was Kimberly Smith, looking for an old man who had wandered from his room at Shady Meadows. The scene around her flickered.

  Logarth turned on her, his wide cloak of forest green sweeping out. "You cannot doubt! You must believe! You must remember!"

  She shook her head, backing away. She was Kimberly Smith.

  "You are my Knight Protector. Once you were called Lady Amberlyn. You walked the meadows and forests with me, searching for adventure. You must remember. If you forget, I will forget and Tarum will be no more." He reached for her.

  His warm touch urged her to remember an impossible life, but she was Kimberly, dreary shopkeeper, lonely and alone. The darkness wrapped around her mind, smothering sunlit meadows of impossible green. The magic died, sinking into the acorn she still held.

  "Please. Remember." His hair faded to white. His cloak of green flickered, became faded pajamas striped blue and red. His eyes pleaded with her.

  "But I'm Kimberly Smith. I just came to visit my grandmother. I don't know what Tarum is. I've never seen Tarum. I'm sorry."

  "But you have seen Tarum, in your heart. Trust yourself."

  "I can't." She closed her eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

  "Then Tarum is lost forever." His hand fell from hers.

  She clenched her fist around the acorn, hating the bleakness of her life. But it was normal, it was real. Tarum was an illusion born of wanting. Impossibly green meadows and golden sunlight, forests full of birdsong and magic, a shining castle of white in the distance, she saw it in her mind. Logarth walked beside her, king and friend and more. She tried to hold the image in her mind but it was like holding water in her hands. The images drifted away, fading and melting with each tear that slipped from her eyes.

  * * *

  "Have you seen Tarum?"

  She opened her eyes. Mr. Jefferies stood in front of her, pathetic and shrunken with age. His faded pajamas hung loosely. Slippers too big for his feet flopped as he shuffled closer. She looked away, ashamed of what she'd almost seen in his faded blue eyes. The lights of the main building of Shady Meadows glowed yellow beyond the screen of pines.

  "Please, have you seen Tarum? I'm afraid I've lost it."

  She closed her eyes and felt the phantom breeze from the meadows of Tarum. The acorn in her hand tingled with fading magic. A last memory rose in her mind, shining and bright. Tarum was dying, its magic gone. The dark spell had won. She had not had the strength.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, to Logarth, to the night, to the shining memory of Tarum.

  He stood in front of her, his eyes focusing on her face. A ghost of a smile played over his mouth. "My Knight Protector."

  She felt the full force of his loss. He was king, he was Tarum. She had failed him. He was nothing but an old man, Mr. Jefferies who couldn't remember.

  "No, I can't let it happen, not this way." She cupped Mr. Jefferies face in her hands, searching for the face of the man she had loved long ago in Tarum. He blinked watery blue eyes, his face old, wrinkled with time. His thin white hair floated around his balding crown. She saw nothing of the king, nothing but a lingering regret in his eyes.

  She leaned forward and kissed him, remembering other kisses, remembering Lady Amberlyn, remembering Tarum.

  His skin grew smooth under her hands. His forest green cloak muffled them both in its generous folds, hiding them from darkness, from spells of loss and forgetting.

  "Tarum is lost," he whispered in the voice she remembered. "One last moment of magic."

  "There has to be a way." She leaned her cheek against his, desperate to regain the life she barely remembered. She loved him, loved Tarum, with all of her heart. It couldn't end this way.

  He cupped her hand with the acorn, his breath warm across her fingers.

  "One moment to remember," he said.

  * * *

  They stood at the crest of a hill, surrounded by green meadows dotted with wildflowers in a rainbow of colors. Golden sunlight poured over the land. A white castle waited in the distance. The sky overhead shone impossibly blue. Birds sang in liquid melodies. Breezes teased her hair. He stood before her, tall and young and strong. His forest green cloak swept around him. He smiled, his blue eyes dancing with joy.

  "Have you seen Tarum?" he asked.

  She turned to look over her beloved land. She wore silver armor, a cloak of sky blue, and a sword of light. She was Knight Protector. She smiled at Logarth.

  The sky flickered and split with darkness. She drew her sword to protect her king. The air filled with angry, harsh winds that withered the grasses of the meadow and killed the flowers with a touch.

  "I will protect you!" She lifted her sword to the darkness.

  The wind shredded the meadow. Her sword flickered and faded. Her armor vanished, replaced by a dull dress of brown. She stood under an oak tree on the grounds of Shady Meadows Rest Home. She held an acorn as if it were a shield.

  She whirled, searching for Logarth, for Tarum, filled with loss.

  "No!" She shouted her defiance at the peaceful night, at the tame gardens and ordered life that surrounded her. "I can't lose Tarum. I can't go back to what I was here."

  She caught the bare shadow of memory in Mr. Jeffries watery eyes.

  "Please, don't let this happen. Is there any way to bring it back?"

  He touched the acorn in her fingers.

  She caught his hand, pressing the acorn into it. "Bring it back, my liege. I can't lose Tarum again."

  He stepped towards her, growing stronger and younger as he moved. His cloak surrounded them both once more.

  "There is one way."

  "Anything to bring Tarum back."

  "My Knight Protector," he said with a smile. He leaned forward, his lips catching hers.

  * * *

  Kimberly kissed Logarth desperately, clinging to him. He changed, grew tenuous like smoke. She clutched his cloak, trying to hold him to her. The cloak collapsed around her, empty.

  "Don't leave me!" she called, muffled by the cloak.

  "I am Tarum," his voice whispered through her mind. "In every touch of breeze, in every flower, in every caress of sunlight, I will be there. Tarum is reborn."

  She lowered the cloak. Wide meadows of rich green rolled to the edges of a forest under a sky impossibly blue. She clutched the forest green cloak. Her brown dress and sensible shoes seemed out of place in Tarum.

  "Tarum needs her king! You can't leave me alone."

  "
Tarum will have a new king." The breeze rustled through the flowers surrounding her. "You will be Knight Protector. As long as you hold Tarum safe in your heart, it will live."

  "Logarth!"

  "It was the only way. Through the acorn, the tree grows again. Tarum is reborn."

  His voice faded. Sunlight warmed her skin, but not her heart.

  "Excuse me!" Footsteps scrambled behind her. "Do you know where we are? One moment I was in my office, on my computer, and the next I was here."

  She knew the voice. She turned, the king's cloak cradled in her arms.

  "Have you seen Tarum, Percy?"

  He blinked owlishly behind his glasses. Percy Lovell, the computer programmer who came into the store every day just to see her, gaped like a dying fish.

  "Tarum? But it was just part of the game I wrote. Tarum isn't real."

  "But it is." Kimberly shook out the cloak, feeling a rightness to her actions. She swung the cloak around Percy's shoulders. He straightened, seeming to grow taller, more regal. "Welcome to Tarum, my liege."

  Percy pulled off his glasses. "Call me Percival, please."

  "I'm Kimberly, Knight Protector." She found herself smiling. She laughed, feeling the sunlight warm her soul, feeling Logarth's touch in the breeze. She spun around, her brown dress fading into silver armor and a sky blue cloak. She raised her face to the sky and laughed again.

  "Is that the castle?" Percival asked, pointing into the distance.

  "It is, my liege," Kimberly answered, still smiling. Tarum lived in her heart, in her soul. The darkness of Lethian was gone, his spell broken. Tarum lived, its magic strong.

  "Are you coming?" Percival walked towards the castle, the forest green cloak sweeping the ground behind him.

  "In a moment," Kimberly answered. "I have one last errand in the mortal realm."

  * * *

  She stepped from the shadow behind the bookcase, a slender figure of silver and sky blue. Dorothy Summers gasped and trembled. Her fingers fumbled among the garish red and yellow yarn flowers on her lap.

  "Gran?" Kimberly, Knight Protector of Tarum, knelt in front of her grandmother.

  "I always knew you would find it someday," Dorothy said, stroking Kimberly's face with her gnarled hands.

  "Tarum, Gran. Come with me." Kimberly tugged at Dorothy's hands.

  "But I'm old, dear. I can't go back to what I was."

  "I can't leave you here, and I can't come back again. Please, Gran."