A/N: I do not own any characters or the idea behind The Talisman. Those
rights belong to the almighty Stephen King and Peter Straub. The only thing
I own is this story and my crazy imagination.
Another Beginning
On January 15th, 1982, a boy named Jack Sawyer stood with his best friend where the water and land come together, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, looking out at the steady Atlantic. He was thirteen years old but looked much older. The sea breeze swept back his brown hair, probably too long, from a fine, clear brow. He was extraordinarily beautiful with a look about him that seemed he had been through so much more than you could even imagine. And perhaps this was so because it was true. He stood there, thinking about his journey that had begun nearly four months ago, his arm across his best friend Richard Sloat's shoulders.
Order and regularity seemed to reappear in Jack's world after the restoration of his mother and of Queen Laura. Richard began to live with Jack and his mother at the Alhambra Inn, and they would begin school as soon as Lily was well enough to stay home without Jack. Speedy continued working at Arcadia Funworld, and was accompanied by Jack and Richard most every day. It seemed that everything was going well for everyone.
Everyone but Jack.
Jack was happy of course, to be home, have his mother back, and have his best friend live with him (which was probably every kid's dream). Lily thought about adopting Richard Sloat since he had nowhere else to go, but Jack insisted she didn't. He loved having Richard with him, but it would be weird to have his best friend as something like a brother.
No, that was good. But Jack couldn't help thinking back to the Territories. He would have nightmares almost every night, mostly reliving Wolf's death or walking through the Blasted Lands. A few times however, he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night after seeing Morgan Sloat/Morgan of Orris chasing after him, slowly killing his son, Jack's best friend, while attempting to kill Jack as well. Richard would wake up to Jack's screams and have to stay up comforting him, reminding him that it wasn't real.
Easy for you to say, Jack would tell his friend. You don't remember half of it.
Unfortunately the nightmares weren't the worst of Jack's problems.
Richard looked over to see that Jack had left his side. Just a moment ago he had his arm around Richard and they both stood taking in the fresh salty ocean wind. Now Jack was sitting alone on the grass, his head in his hands. At first it looked to Richard like the cold Atlantic breeze was causing Jack to shiver (it was the middle of January), but when he walked closer he saw that he was crying. Richard sat down and put his hand gently on his friend's shoulder. "Hey... Jack?" He whispered. Jack slowly looked up and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "What's wrong?" Richard asked. The wind blew through Jack's hair into his face as he sniffed. "Nothin', Richie-boy," he smiled sadly at his best friend. "Just thinking. About...-" he hesitated. "...the Territories." Accepting this answer, Richard helped Jack up to his feet. He knew very well from the look on his face that the Territories weren't the only thing on his mind, but Richard knew to leave well enough alone.
Walking back to the old hotel, Jack let go of Richard and stooped over to pick something up off the ground. It was a clamshell, and Richard watched as Jack stared at it for what seemed like a very long time, a frightened look in Jack's beautiful dark eyes. The clamshell looked glossy from the ocean waves as Jack Sawyer held it in his hands. He remembered the first time he entered the Territories at the Alhambra, when he didn't know he had done it. That oversized seagull popped into his mind, staring at him with those beady, watery eyes. It's voice- 'other's 'yin', 'ack... Mother's dyin' Jack, dyinnnnn' she's DYING! rang through his head. And though ough he knew his mother was fine, the terror returned and Jack blacked out.
A few minutes later Jack was awakened with a jolt, Richard shaking him and yelling. "Jack! What happened?" he asked when he saw Jack had come to. Jack quickly looked around to make sure he wasn't still in the Territories, then sat up straight and rubbed his head. "Uh..." he gulped. "Never mind... I'm fine. Hey, why don't we check on Speedy?"
Arcadia Funworld was as dingy as ever. No one ever really came anymore, except for those that stayed at the Alhambra with nothing better to do, but they usually only went to the small arcade. Lester "Speedy" Parker sat playing an old guitar, a pick in his mouth, strumming with his fingers when Jack and Richard walked up to him. "Hey there, ol' Travellin' Jack!" chuckled Speedy when he saw the boys coming. "And Richie, pal, you two come to visit ol' Speedy today?" Jack smiled and sat before his first and only friend he made at the Alhambra. "You bet, Speedy. You doin' okay?" "Yeah-bob," Speedy said in the way he always said. "Doin' mighty fine, Travellin' Jack. I've jus' been here, practicin' on this ol' guitar I found in the back of that arcade. Hey Richie, anything you want t' hear?" Richard had plopped himself down beside Jack and crossed his legs. He was so close to Jack that he could feel Jack's thigh against his own. Also having taken notice of this, Jack stiffened up and blushed a little. "Sure Speedy, play some Creedence Clearwater Revival." Richard told Speedy then turned and winked at Jack, who smiled back. They both remember listening to the same song on the way back home riding with Wolf's litter- brother. Jack still wished Richard could have met his late friend. As the two of them leaned back to listen to Speedy play, somehow Jack's hand found Richard's, and they held hands until Richard noticed what happened. He began to blush furiously and pulled away.
"Uh, Jack? I'm going back to the hotel. I... I need to use the bathroom," Richard interrupted and sped off. Speedy must have seen this little encounter because he began to laugh like Jack never heard. "Oh boy, Travellin' Jack, son, c'mere for second." He beckoned Jack closer to him. Jack could feel a lump in his throat near his Adam's apple forming, not really wanting to hear what Speedy had to say. "I see what's goin' on here. I don't got nothin' wrong with those of you folks that choose another direction, no sir, but boy, if you've got feelings you betta damn well tell 'em!" Jack blushed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. No one ever seemed to notice, but Jack always knew Speedy was a bit sharper than others sometimes, especially when it came to people.
And now he had just outed Jack before he could even come out to himself.
"But I- how...?" Jack managed to sputter. Speedy gave another hearty laugh and said, "Oh, I could tell way back when you were carryin' him around before you entered that damned Black Hotel, yeah-bob." Jack's face was still full of astonishment, Speedy could see, so he said; "Now you go on, boy. Talk to your friend. I know you're probably real afraid of what he might say, but don't you worry, no sir. I saw somethin' in him too, I did. So go on!" He shoved Jack away and Jack ran back to the hotel, leaving Speedy laughing, playing another song on his guitar.
Another Beginning
On January 15th, 1982, a boy named Jack Sawyer stood with his best friend where the water and land come together, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, looking out at the steady Atlantic. He was thirteen years old but looked much older. The sea breeze swept back his brown hair, probably too long, from a fine, clear brow. He was extraordinarily beautiful with a look about him that seemed he had been through so much more than you could even imagine. And perhaps this was so because it was true. He stood there, thinking about his journey that had begun nearly four months ago, his arm across his best friend Richard Sloat's shoulders.
Order and regularity seemed to reappear in Jack's world after the restoration of his mother and of Queen Laura. Richard began to live with Jack and his mother at the Alhambra Inn, and they would begin school as soon as Lily was well enough to stay home without Jack. Speedy continued working at Arcadia Funworld, and was accompanied by Jack and Richard most every day. It seemed that everything was going well for everyone.
Everyone but Jack.
Jack was happy of course, to be home, have his mother back, and have his best friend live with him (which was probably every kid's dream). Lily thought about adopting Richard Sloat since he had nowhere else to go, but Jack insisted she didn't. He loved having Richard with him, but it would be weird to have his best friend as something like a brother.
No, that was good. But Jack couldn't help thinking back to the Territories. He would have nightmares almost every night, mostly reliving Wolf's death or walking through the Blasted Lands. A few times however, he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night after seeing Morgan Sloat/Morgan of Orris chasing after him, slowly killing his son, Jack's best friend, while attempting to kill Jack as well. Richard would wake up to Jack's screams and have to stay up comforting him, reminding him that it wasn't real.
Easy for you to say, Jack would tell his friend. You don't remember half of it.
Unfortunately the nightmares weren't the worst of Jack's problems.
Richard looked over to see that Jack had left his side. Just a moment ago he had his arm around Richard and they both stood taking in the fresh salty ocean wind. Now Jack was sitting alone on the grass, his head in his hands. At first it looked to Richard like the cold Atlantic breeze was causing Jack to shiver (it was the middle of January), but when he walked closer he saw that he was crying. Richard sat down and put his hand gently on his friend's shoulder. "Hey... Jack?" He whispered. Jack slowly looked up and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "What's wrong?" Richard asked. The wind blew through Jack's hair into his face as he sniffed. "Nothin', Richie-boy," he smiled sadly at his best friend. "Just thinking. About...-" he hesitated. "...the Territories." Accepting this answer, Richard helped Jack up to his feet. He knew very well from the look on his face that the Territories weren't the only thing on his mind, but Richard knew to leave well enough alone.
Walking back to the old hotel, Jack let go of Richard and stooped over to pick something up off the ground. It was a clamshell, and Richard watched as Jack stared at it for what seemed like a very long time, a frightened look in Jack's beautiful dark eyes. The clamshell looked glossy from the ocean waves as Jack Sawyer held it in his hands. He remembered the first time he entered the Territories at the Alhambra, when he didn't know he had done it. That oversized seagull popped into his mind, staring at him with those beady, watery eyes. It's voice- 'other's 'yin', 'ack... Mother's dyin' Jack, dyinnnnn' she's DYING! rang through his head. And though ough he knew his mother was fine, the terror returned and Jack blacked out.
A few minutes later Jack was awakened with a jolt, Richard shaking him and yelling. "Jack! What happened?" he asked when he saw Jack had come to. Jack quickly looked around to make sure he wasn't still in the Territories, then sat up straight and rubbed his head. "Uh..." he gulped. "Never mind... I'm fine. Hey, why don't we check on Speedy?"
Arcadia Funworld was as dingy as ever. No one ever really came anymore, except for those that stayed at the Alhambra with nothing better to do, but they usually only went to the small arcade. Lester "Speedy" Parker sat playing an old guitar, a pick in his mouth, strumming with his fingers when Jack and Richard walked up to him. "Hey there, ol' Travellin' Jack!" chuckled Speedy when he saw the boys coming. "And Richie, pal, you two come to visit ol' Speedy today?" Jack smiled and sat before his first and only friend he made at the Alhambra. "You bet, Speedy. You doin' okay?" "Yeah-bob," Speedy said in the way he always said. "Doin' mighty fine, Travellin' Jack. I've jus' been here, practicin' on this ol' guitar I found in the back of that arcade. Hey Richie, anything you want t' hear?" Richard had plopped himself down beside Jack and crossed his legs. He was so close to Jack that he could feel Jack's thigh against his own. Also having taken notice of this, Jack stiffened up and blushed a little. "Sure Speedy, play some Creedence Clearwater Revival." Richard told Speedy then turned and winked at Jack, who smiled back. They both remember listening to the same song on the way back home riding with Wolf's litter- brother. Jack still wished Richard could have met his late friend. As the two of them leaned back to listen to Speedy play, somehow Jack's hand found Richard's, and they held hands until Richard noticed what happened. He began to blush furiously and pulled away.
"Uh, Jack? I'm going back to the hotel. I... I need to use the bathroom," Richard interrupted and sped off. Speedy must have seen this little encounter because he began to laugh like Jack never heard. "Oh boy, Travellin' Jack, son, c'mere for second." He beckoned Jack closer to him. Jack could feel a lump in his throat near his Adam's apple forming, not really wanting to hear what Speedy had to say. "I see what's goin' on here. I don't got nothin' wrong with those of you folks that choose another direction, no sir, but boy, if you've got feelings you betta damn well tell 'em!" Jack blushed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. No one ever seemed to notice, but Jack always knew Speedy was a bit sharper than others sometimes, especially when it came to people.
And now he had just outed Jack before he could even come out to himself.
"But I- how...?" Jack managed to sputter. Speedy gave another hearty laugh and said, "Oh, I could tell way back when you were carryin' him around before you entered that damned Black Hotel, yeah-bob." Jack's face was still full of astonishment, Speedy could see, so he said; "Now you go on, boy. Talk to your friend. I know you're probably real afraid of what he might say, but don't you worry, no sir. I saw somethin' in him too, I did. So go on!" He shoved Jack away and Jack ran back to the hotel, leaving Speedy laughing, playing another song on his guitar.