09 Bluebells
In the early morning darkness, I watched the glow of Mary's rolled cigarette brighten and dim as she paced in front of the ramshackle house. Jamming my hands into my pockets to stop fidgeting, I waited for Hiero to come out of the stables with the magnificent white horse. Though Mary had never told me directly, I could sense her growing disappointment in my desire to return to my old life, occasionally catching her he angry stare in the heightened glow of her cigarette.
Hiero emerged from the stables with the horse close behind. The man gestured over his shoulder. "He's not excited about leaving so early either, but he's ready to take you home."
"Tell him thank you for me," I said.
"You just did," replied Hiero. "Besides, he knew you would not be staying with us."
"Really?" In the predawn darkness, I looked into the horse's eye, which seemed to reflect the moonlight with a faint glow. "How?" I asked.
Hiero moved to the beast and began straightening a simple riding blanket that had been laid over the animal's back. "He thought you were the type of fellow that needed to be 100% sure before doing anything."
I more confidently approached the horse and stroked its long nose. "Ya, that sounds about right." I glanced briefly at Mary and whispered to Hiero. "I want to say goodbye."
"Make it brief, mate," said Hiero in a somber tone. "Be honest and to the point. I've only seen her this upset once before."
Certain that Mary had heard my whispering, I approached with caution, stopping out of arm's reach. "Thank you for showing me your home. I promise to keep it secret."
"Secrecy doesn't matter," she said with a heavy brow. "Your world stopped believing a long time ago. They wouldn't believe you even if you had taken photographs."
"Good point." I nervously gnawed my lip before saying, "I hope you can forgive me for wanting to go back. It would be nice if you could visit me that next time you..."
Mary dropped her cigarette remnant onto the ground and pressed it out. "You don't need my forgiveness. I admire your commitment to your daughter."
"Once I sort things out back home, I'll fly to the Philippines to see how she's progressing. Last I heard, she's saying more words and almost uses them to form sentences."
Mary forced a smile. "I'm sure she'll enjoy seeing you. That will be nice."
"Will you visit me?" When Mary did not answer, I added, "Are we still friends?"
A more natural smile replaced her polite one. She nodded. "Of course we are still friends. I will visit you again."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
The white horse came up alongside of me, and Hiero extended his hand to me. With supernatural strength, he pulled me up behind him. He then gestured to the first signs of light on the horizon and said, "We need to leave now. According to the star charts, we cannot miss this opening."
I gazed down at Mary and gave a simple parting-wave only to see her swallow hard as she turned away with a heavy foot. Whispering, I said to Hiero, "I never wanted to hurt her."
"I know, mate. She knows too." In an ancient language unfamiliar to me, Hiero said something to the horse, and we proceeded to leave the paradise of the lake.
We entered the forest in complete darkness and traveled without incident as the surefooted horse carried us without any guidance. Neither of us talked as we travelled during those early morning hours. And by the time direct sunlight began to break through the trees, I knew from the dull, dry scent that filled my nose that we had returned to my world. Even the rising sun seemed less exuberant, as if looking through a pair of smudged glasses. The one standout was the bluebells now underfoot.
I asked, "These flowers will only appear when the door between worlds opens?"
"Yes," replied Hiero. "They need something from each world to thrive, which causes them to spread quickly.
When the early morning beams of sunlight grazed the vibrant bluebells, the sight triggered a memory, causing me to gasp. "I remember seeing these flowers years ago when looking for new mountain biking trails. I remember the vibrant color, but I was more interested in finding an exciting trail, so I easily forgot."
Hiero made no comment as he unexpectedly asked the horse to turn off the flowered path.
"My car is at the end of the trail," I said. "The flowers should lead us there."
"Do you think your car is still there?"
Remembering Mary's warning, I ask, "A year truly has passed?"
"Yes, my friend." Hiero gestured for the horse to turn left again as we exited the forest onto a gravel road. "If I remember correctly, there is a building up ahead."
Glancing in both directions, I easily recognized the road. "Yes. The refuge headquarters is located about one mile up ahead."
"I'm sure someone there will be able to take you into town."
"My mountain bike," I said with a groan. "I really liked that bike."
"Where did you leave it?"
"In my car. If I had to guess, my car was towed and eventually sold at auction."
"Maybe the person who towed your car has your bicycle."
"Hmm, maybe, but I doubt they would give it back to me without me coughing up some cash. I'll just have to buy a new one." The consequences of my year's absence began to pile up in my head, making me groan louder. "I'll also have to find a new job, replace my car. Shit! My house?"
Hiero turned his head to look at me. "What about your house?"
"I don't know if I still have one. My house payments automatically come out of my bank account. I only had enough money for a few months, maybe five. If I'm lucky, the bank hasn't auctioned off my home."
"If you want, we can turn around and return to the lake?"
"No. I need to see my daughter."
"You know," said Hiero, sounding nonchalantly, "I looked at our star charts and found a door in the Philippines. You could visit her that way."
"Don't these doors only open at set times."
"Yes."
"How long until the next door opens there? In this world's time."
The man paused not wanting to answer. He sighed and said, "Fifteen years."
"I cannot wait that long."
Hiero shrugged. "It's only 4 months in our time."
"Ya, but my daughter will be in her late twenties when I next see her. I just lost another year of her childhood."
Staring off into the forest, Hiero again shrugged at my comment. "Wouldn't you have lost it anyway, living so far apart?"
"There's the internet. We video chat."
"How often do you do this...video chat?"
When I recalled the true number of video chats, I kept the answer to myself.
"I see," said Hiero, failing to sound impartial.
We turned onto a short paved driveway that led to the refuge headquarters. With the sun just above the horizon, we discovered the building vacant of life.
I asked, "What month is it?"
Hiero offered me his hand to assist me off the horse. "August or September. Our star charts are not marked with your months or the year."
As Hiero jumped off the horse, I turned slowly and found the parking lot completely absent of cars. "Must be Sunday."
"Sorry, mate, I cannot take you into town."
"I know. I'm not expecting our magnificent friend to carry me the 20 miles." I walked up to the animal and rubbed his nose out of gratitude. "Someone will drive by. Bird watches come up here all the time on the weekends. I'm sure I can hitch a ride back with one of them."
"Okay." Hiero patted the animal's shoulder, observing my unease. "It's not too late to change your mind."
"Thank you, but I have responsibilities."
"If you are worried about your daughter, she has her mother and her mother's family."
"I still have to provide."
"Yes," said Hiero, "but providing is not being a father."
"I know. I could move to the Philippines to be close to her?"
"You? In that heat?" said Hiero, smirking. "I heard about your two trips to snow valley." Laila said you walked barefoot in the snow during your whole second visit."
"True. I do prefer cold weather."
"Look, I'm just saying that things don't always work out. You are not a bad father because you wife left and took your daughter."
"I'm still responsible." Not able to face the man, I turned my head away as my petting of the horse's nose slowed.
"I'm not going to change your mind, am I?"
I shook head.
"What if I just simply performed a magic spell to make you forget your life so that you'd come back with me?"
I turned to the man. "You can do that?"
"No. Sure would make things much easier if I could; wouldn't it." Hiero reached under his shirt collar and lifted a large gold chain from around his neck. The chain, several inches long, dangled from his two outstretched hands. "Laila wanted me to give this to you."
I accepted the gold chain and found it even heavier than expected. The sun glistened off the surface in a way that only gold can. "This is real gold?"
"Of course. Laila felt bad for disrupting your life, even if it was for just one year. She assumed you'd lose everything since you have no remaining family other than your daughter."
"It depends if the bank also drained my savings to pay my mortgage while I was gone." I weighed the chain in my hands. "How much is this worth?"
"I've never been keen with finances. A few thousand would be my guess. Laila said not to accept anything less than five."
My eyes widened. "Five? Where did you get this?"
"I stole it." The man's chest seemed to swell with pride.
"From who?"
"I don't know."
"Why did you take it?"
"It was shinny. It's one of the many things we mischievous folk do." The man's brow knitted as he eyed me. "You've suddenly full of questions."
"I just don't want to be surprised and end up in jail for receiving stolen property."
"You need not worry, good sir. I know exactly where it comes from and can assure you that no trouble will come from it. I stole it from..." Needing more time than either of us would have anticipated, Hiero scratched his ruffled head as he combed his memories. "If I remember correctly, I took that chain just before the automobile was invented. That was a long time ago in your world, was it not?"
"Yes," I replied with a disapproving smirk. "Still doesn't make it right."
The man snorted as he remounted the white horse. "Nothing is right in this world. I may never fully understand why you returned."
Not wanting to argue anymore, I stared at the chain dangling from my hand.
"If I'm any judge of character, I'd say that you'll going to regret your decision."
"I'm already regretting part of it," I said in a soft tone.
"Really? Which part."
Preferring not to say, I assumed that Hiero was peeking into my mind. "You already know, don't you?"
"You wanted to kiss her?"
"Yes. At least once"
The man presented me a wry smile and said, "Perhaps you already have."
"What?"
Hiero gave a slight bow before whispering to the horse in his ancient tongue, which set the animal in motion.
"What do you mean?" I pressed.
Without answering, the man simply waved to me over his shoulder, and soon, he and the horse disappeared into the forest.
Left to my own devices, I quickly became paralyzed by fear, not from being stranded in a northern Minnesota forest, but out of worry that I had destroyed my life. I needed to know if I still had a home, a career. I needed to know the wellbeing of my daughter and worried that her mother would not let me back into her life.
Despite this burden, I could not stop thinking about Mary and prayed that I had not destroyed our friendship, hoping wholeheartedly that we would meet again.
All my worries resulted in a cold sweat that enveloped my body. Fidgeting, I swatted at the biting insects that had begun to pick up my scent. The insects reminded me of other dangers, which caused me to hang the gold chain around my neck, tucking the shinny jewelry under my shirt out of sight.
After a couple hours of waiting, no visitors had stopped at the refuge headquarters, so I began walking towards the nearest town by county road. Around midday, I hitched a ride with an untalkative farmer who seemed indifferent to my made up story of being stranded by friends.
Dropped off in the town's center, I found myself with only my wallet and car keys, with no easy way to get home. With no childhood acquaintances remaining in my hometown, I strolled to a fast food restaurant to eat an afternoon meal. Here, I learned that both my credit cards had been cancelled. Paying for my meal with cash, I knew well enough that I would need a lot more money for the simple five-hour bus ticket to southern Minnesota.
Lacking the money for even a cheap motel, I wandered across my small hometown as I tried to plan my trip home. With little options, I continued visiting various fast food restaurants for cheap coffee until the last burger joint closed at midnight, leaving me with only a couple dwindling bars for shelter, which I lacked the funds for a simple drink.
Just as Mary had predicted, a little over a year had passed during my absence. My mental faculty intact, I knew had gone somewhere special, but disbelief still nagged me.
To be more precise, it was a little over a year, for it was late August. I had noticed the early changes in the leaves when the farmer drove me into town. This also meant that it would be chilly at night, reaffirmed by the brisk air already nipping at me upon leaving the last restaurant.
To compel the situation, I had no jacket. Tolerating a day in the cold was a far simpler endeavor when compared to sleeping outside in such climate. I tucked my hands into my pockets and headed towards the center of town with two destinations in mind: the local emergency waiting room and the abandoned railroad tunnel that passed through a manmade hill created for the main highway. I chose unused tunnel since I had no excuse to be lingering in a waiting room until dawn.
Stumbling along the eerily quiet and dimly lit sidewalk, I arrived at the tunnel and slowly began to approach the decaying entrance. Relying mostly on the moonlight, I listened for signs of people in the shadows. I stepped into the darkness and promptly smelt cooking food. Stopping in my tracks, my ears soon picked up the sound of breathing.
"Hello?" I queried. "I don't mean to cause trouble."
A man's voice resonated from the darkness. "I certainly hope not."
To my side, I spotted a homeless man sitting on a dislodged railroad tie with his back to the old brick wall, holding something in his hand. Subconsciously, I took a step backward, returning to the moonlight. "I was just looking for a place to crash until morning."
"Damn it," said the man as he snatched away a piece of cardboard, which in turn revealed a small wire grill set over a small fuel can, the type used for camping. Over the flame, an opened can of soup cooked. "Nearly set my cardboard on fire."
"Sorry," I said.
"Ah, no worries. I thought you were trouble and wanted to hide the flame."
"Do you get enough heat to cook?"
"Ya. Doesn't take much."
"What about to sleep?"
"Don't need a fire until it gets closer to freezing. I don't think it will get that cold tonight." The man studied me more closely. "Where's your jacket?"
"Don't have one. I unexpectedly returned today from a long trip. I didn't take a jacket with me."
The homeless man took a crooked spoon and began stirring the contents within his soup can. "Where did you go?"
"Um...north."
"North? There's a lot of north. Anyplace fun?"
I tucked my hands back into my pockets. "No. I just stayed by a lake with friends. You could say it was kind of like a hippie commune."
The man licked his spoon before leaning back against the tunnel wall. "Make yourself at home if you plan on staying the night. You can use the plastic tarp in my shopping cart. I just found it, so it's clean. You'll also find an old wool blanket that should be sufficient to see you through till morning. Don't worry; the blanket's washed. I do some manual labor for one of the churches in exchange for cans of soup and the occasional use of their washing machine."
"Thank you." Fearing the start of hypothermia, I went to the cart and extracted the tarp and thin wool blanket.
"Ah, what the hell," said the man. "Let's start a small fire to get you warmed up. I don't get company all that often." The man slowly scrambled to his feet and crossed to the other side of the tunnel. From the shadows, the man returned with an armful of scrap wood, which he set down by his tiny camping stove. He stacked the wood neatly for burning, and with some scrap paper, transferred the flame from his small can of cooking fuel to the wood. "I've learned to get by without a fire pit. The city occasional cleans out this space, so I don't bother building anything permanent."
I sat before the flame and draped the wool blanket over my shoulders, layering it with the plastic. Though the flame was small, I immediately felt what warmth from the fire. With the added light, I could now see the man's face more clearly and judged him to be in his late fifties or early sixties, his face severely weathered from living in the elements.
"Would you like some soup?" asked the homeless man. "It's beef vegetable."
"No thank you. I just had a hamburger with my remaining money, which I'm starting to regret."
"Really?" The man gingerly moved the hot can of soup from the wire grill to his railroad tie. As he dropped the lid onto the fuel can to extinguish the flame, he asked, "Why?"
"I think the greasy burger is shocking my system. While I was staying at that lake cabin, I only ate healthy food: fruits and nuts."
The man began staring into the small campfire. "You say that you were staying with hippies?"
Something in the man's voice gave me pause. "Yes."
"Fruits and nuts?"
"Yes. My friends live off the land without any farm animals. They claim to live in harmony with nature. Kind of like fairies."
The man turned to me, his face gave. "They don't like being called fairies, but you already knew that. Didn't you?" Slowly, he began to smile.