Hello dear readers - I have been working away on my short story titled Sybal. Below is Part II of this story. If you haven't read part one, you can find it here. I hope you enjoy this latest installment.
Ciao,
mip
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Clare arrived at the park, which was situated in behind a quiet residential neighborhood. Her mood was giddy at the thought of being with Brady and she smiled broadly as she parked her car on the street. She was a tall woman, slim and attractive. People were always captivated by her smile and the intensity of her eyes. The overhead sun fell flatteringly on her sandy blonde hair that curled in lose ringlets around the contours of her face. Smiling to herself, she made her way across the park and to the steep wooden steps that led down to their special place on the wooden bridge below. As she descended the steps, her face beamed even more as she saw Brady off in the distance. Then her smile faltered; her face puzzled. She could see that it was Brady, but he somehow looked different.
'It must be the sun,' she thought offhandedly as she saw that his hair looked lighter somehow.
She continued to descend the steps and drawing nearer, she could see Brady's familiar smile and yet even that somehow looked odd, although she could not place it.
"Hi," he said with a wave. She drew nearer but no words came from her mouth. It was like she was looking at someone who looked like Brady but wasn't Brady. She finally reached him and stared.
"Brady?" she said. "What happened?" She looked him intensely. He looked older.
"Hard to explain, but, I will," Brady replied.
"What happened to your hair?" she said now seeing that his black thick hair had gone somewhat gray and was thinner on top.
"This is going to be a long story so you're going to have to let me explain," he said. "I'd really like to hug you first though."
They embraced and he held her tightly. "Oh God I've missed you," he said.
Clare pulled away from him, "Brady, you just saw me yesterday. What's going on? Is this some kind of joke? Are you sick? Oh no, you're sick aren't you? What happened?"
"I'm not sick Clare. I'm fine. Ok. Let's go back to yesterday so I can explain this," he said.
"Ok," Clare said.
"After we met here, I walked you to your car, remember?" he said.
"Of course I remember," she replied. The conversation had an odd texture to it, Clare thought to herself, as though Brady were unsure of recent things like their meeting. 'He's trying to recall the memory,' she though quietly to herself. 'Mentally ill?' a little voice said in her head. A chill ran through her.
"Ok. Well after you left I went back to the bridge. Just wanted to linger a bit, enjoy the a few more minutes of quiet. When I got there, a man was standing there, so I decided not to stay, but when I turned to leave this guy calls out to me, 'Brady. Brady Wilson?' and I turned back to him. I told him I was Brady Wilson but didn't know who he was.
* * *
"Brady. Brady Wilson?" the stranger called out.
Brady turned back toward the bridge, "Ah, yeah. I'm Brady Wilson. Who are you?"
The man walked toward him, seeming somewhat urgent. He wore a long coat that seemed somehow out of place, as though it had come from another country perhaps. "My name is Barrett and I've come a long way to talk to you Brady."
"Why?" Brady asked.
"I think your life might be in danger. Grave danger. I need to know, what do you do here in this time and place?" Barrett asked.
Brady screwed up his face, puzzled, "What do you mean?"
"What do you do? For work," Barrett said.
"I'm a freelance writer, for magazines and newspapers, stuff like that. Do you have some kind of story or something?" Brady asked.
"No. You are the one I've been looking for. A writer. Do you have any other names? Is Brady Wilson the name you were given at birth?" Barrett asked. He was glancing around the forested surroundings somewhat nervously, his questions turning somewhat impatient.
"No," Brady said.
"Does that name...." Barrett drew closer and whispered, "....Sybal mean anything to you."
Brady cocked an eyebrow, "That's what my dad use to call me as a joke, a nickname. When I was a kid, I use to...."
Barrett waved his response off impatiently, "We don't have time for this now Brady, we need to leave here. You are the one I've been looking for, but someone else is looking for you too. Actually a lot of people are looking for you, but someone in particular wants you dead. You have to come with me."
"What the hell are you talking about," Brady said. He backed up from Barrett. "Who wants to kill me? Why would anyone want to kill me?"
"I will explain that to you later, but now, we have to go Brady," Barrett said. "It isn't safe here in the open like this."
"I have to go back to work," Brady said, "I can't go anywhere. Let's call the police."
"No," Barrett said sternly. "In this place you are a target. No lawmakers are going to be able to protect you from the man that is coming for you. Not here. We need to leave this place. I know this doesn't make any sense Brady, but you need to come with me. There are other places, other...worlds, we can go to for now," Barrett finished.
"Huh?" Brady said.
A sharp cracking sound pierced the air, like the sound of branches snapping deep within the forest around them. Barrett jumped and looked quickly in all directions. He moved close to Brady and whispered with intensity, "Brady. You need to trust me. There are other places then here, then what you know. We need to go there now, then I'll explain everything to you. If you don't come with me now, I fear we may die right here and then much would be lost."
Brady searched the man's face and although he was confused he said, "Ok. Where are we going?"
"Good," Barrett said. He turned toward the bridge, "Follow me, down the embankment." Barrett went down the right side of the bridge through the underbrush and push his way to the stream below. He took large strides into the flowing water and turned back to Brady, "Come on Brady, come into the water."
"This is crazy," Brady said as he pushed hesitantly through the tangle of weeds and trees. "I can't get wet, I have to go back to work."
Barrett reached inside his coat and pulled out what looked like a shaft of some sort. It was black and looked like polish stone or lacquered wood. Brady watched him take the pole which looked three feet long and extend it in front of him. He heard the man named Barrett mumbling something to himself. The water in the river seemed to slow around the spot where Barrett stood. A low, dense fog-like mist began to swirl a few feet in front of him; a humming sound seemed to be emanating from the outstretched staff. Then the tendrils of fog moved upwards creating a thin veil of mist before Barrett. 'It's a door,' Brady thought to himself, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Come down Brady, we need to go," Barrett said. Brady waded out into the water which came up to his shins. "Walk through the mist with me Brady. Ready?"
"Yes," Brady said.
They walked toward the curtain of mist. Brady could feel the cool sprinkle of water on his face as he approached. Stepping into the mist Brady realized that he could simultaneously see Claridina park and a vast desert. This dual vision hung before his eyes for but a second, and caused him to feel disoriented and nauseous. Then the park was gone. Only the desert place stretched out before them. The veil of misting water behind them lingered for a moment and then seem to burn off in the sun and blow away.
* * *
"That place Clare moved at a different speed than here," Brady said. She looked at him, her face feeling numb, her head aching. His tale sounding completely mad. "I've been with Barrett for ten years, moving around, hiding and preparing. They were ten real years. I've aged ten years, just like I would have here. I don't exactly understand why it works this way, but time here moves much slower. For everyone living here, a year is a year. Same for these other places I've been to, a year is a year. But to an outside observer, they can see that time is moving at a different rate. For someone passing between these worlds, well...time runs differently, obviously."
"This doesn't make sense," Clare said.
"It does. It is kind of like that theory that Einstein had, you know the twin theory? One twin stays here on Earth and the other gets into a rocket. They are both twenty years old. The twin in the rocket goes on a space trip, travels for a year, moving at almost the speed of light. From his perspective, the amount of time that has past is a year. But when he returns to earth a year later, he finds his brother is much older than 20."
"So you've been traveling in a spaceship?" Clare asked.
Brady laughed. "No. I'm just using that as an example."
"This is crazy," Clare said.
"Clare, look at me," Brady said taking her hands in his, "Look at me. It's me Brady right?"
"Yes," she replied.
"But you can see that I'm older. I'm 45 years old now. That doesn't happen overnight right?"
"Are you sure you aren't sick Brady," Clare asked?
"I'm sure I'm not sick," Brady said.
"I don't understand this at all. If this is all true, why come back here? Are you still in danger? Why were you in danger? Where is this Barrett person you went with?" She had a million questions she wanted to ask him.
"I came back for you Clare," Brady said. "In ten years I have never stopped loving you."
She began to cry, "Jesus Brady, I can't handle you talking about us in the past tense."
He held her. She let herself be held. His arms around her felt familiar.
"Shhhh," he said gently, "I'm sorry this is all fucked up. I'll explain a lot more. Let's go home and talk?"
"Can you stay?" she asked.
"Not really. I mean, I shouldn't. But I am. For a short while, so I can explain all this," he said.
"I have to go back to work," she said.
"I know. You go back to work and I'll meet you tonight, at..." he let his words drift off. He'd been gone for ten years as time moves in the other places like the Prim, but here in Toronto, he'd been gone only a day. "Do you still have a key to my condo?" he asked.
"Of course I do," Clare asked.
"I lost mine a long time ago," Brady said. "Can you lend me your copy. Then meet me at my place after work?"
"Ok, I guess so," she said. "I'm really not sure what to make of all this Brady. You're freaking me out."
"I'm sorry," he said as she handed him the spare key to his condominium. "I'll try and explain it all as best I can tonight."
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" she asked.
"We all are," Brady replied.
* * *
Barrett opened his eyes to the hazy morning light that was streaming into the small tent he had been sleeping in. The morning air was already growing hot. He looked over to Brady's sleeping roll; empty. "Early riser..." Barrett mumbled as he sat-up and shook the last remnants of sleep from his head. He and Brady had been making their way along the Jessen Escarpment for the past three days. It had been a long, slow going hike for them. After three days however, they'd finally arrived at a 'natural portal', a place of passing, as it was also sometimes referred to. The natural portal behaved just like the ones that Barrett could conjure near bodies of water, but they didn't require him to use the power of his staff. Natural portals always existed, although they were often unseen to the naked eye. It was safer to use the natural portal because it was undetectable by his enemies. Each time he used his staff to create a temporary portal, it was like ripples of energy pulsed out across the fabric of existence, drawing attention to him. These days, attention was something they definitely didn't need. By necessity though, they needed to pass from the lands of Nok and into the Prim. They'd been on the run for many years, but now, the time was drawing near that a key part of the prophecy was destined to occur. They needed to be in the Prim. He was sure of that.
Barrett emerged from the tent and let the morning sun warm his face. He peered around the splendor of the escarpment, with it's steep rocky cliffs plunging down into the great Sea of Usta.
"Brady," he called out. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" Silence except for the dull crashing sound of the waves far below. Barrett looked around wondering momentarily if Brady had perhaps gone to relieve himself. "Brady?"
He walked around the tent, scratched his head. "Where the devil have you gone to?" he murmured. Then a disturbing thought came to him. He poked his head back into the tent and look around Brady's bedroll. There was nothing there. His small pack, his books and writing instruments. Gone. "Damn it!" Barrett hissed. "Where did he go?"
Barrett scrambled back out of the tent and looked around. His eyes came to rest on the place where the natural portal stood. To the casual observer the small bramble of bushes at the escarpment edge would not seem extraordinary, but Barrett could see the faint shimmering there of the portal. Had Brady gone through the portal? Or had he simply wandered off somewhere along the escarpment? Barrett stared hard at the portal. 'Where did you go?' he thought. For a moment Barrett considered that perhaps the tracker had finally caught up to them. Had Byros Lincoln finally captured his prize? Barrett shook his head in dismissal. If that had been the case then he would have heard something. A scuffle of some sort. He stepped closer to the portal with the suspicion growing that Brady had gone back to his home.
"Oh Brady..." Barrett sighed. "What have you done?"
He gathered there things in silence. Packed the tent and their belongings into the small pack he was carrying. He cautiously glanced around the area, then slowly walked to the cliff edge. He cleared his mind and focused on the stream where he'd met Brady. He visualized the bridge as best as he could, the spot where they'd spoke, the name of the park.
Claridina.
Then Barrett stepped forward as though he would walk off the edge of the cliff and plunge to his death, but he did not fall. For one sickening moment he did feel the unfeeling pull of gravity on his body, his stomach lurching instinctively, but then the feeling was gone. The escarpment and the sea were gone. The land of Nok was gone. He seemingly emerged from thin air and stepped into a river, the wooden bridge before him. He was back in Claridina Park. Brady was nowhere to be seen. Barrett rubbed his face in fatigue and frustration. He looked back over his shoulder, the portal was gone. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he quickly waded through the river, up the embankment and toward the steep set of wooden steps that would take him up into the park. From there he would go into the city of Toronto and try and find Brady. He had a strong hunch that he would have either gone to the woman he so often mentioned, Clare, or perhaps he would have gone to his home. They had been travelling for ten years but here in Toronto, only a day had passed. Brady would find things exactly as he'd left them.
Barrett began to climb the steps, hoping that Brady was here somewhere.
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