The end.
This is a short story of sorts that might or might not be part of a larger cycle. If it is, then it is towards the end — part 4 of 6. Maybe. We’ll see. Anyway, rather than dump the story into one large post, I’m going to chunk it up and let it be consumed over a couple of posts. Enjoy.
Whoosh-suck, went the heart.
The room was just as she had left it, except the spilled crates were now gone. In fact all of the crates were missing, and the candles were now expertly placed in rows around the periphery of the room. The heart sat cradled in its ring. The shiny red bugs continued their endless comings and goings. The pipes clanked and hissed.
“Oh darling, I’m so happy to see you.” The woman came into view from behind the heart, and glided over to the girl, who had once been named Lisa, with her gloved hand outstretched, as if expecting a kiss.“Life was getting so boring.”
“What happened to the the crates?”
“Oh dear, was there something you needed? But of course! I cleaned up your mess. Not to worry, anything can be replaced.” The woman clapped her hands together. “I know, let’s go shopping. Just you and me.”
The girl looked down at her hands, and then she looked over to the vaulted entrance that she had run through when she first came in to the room. Finally, she tipped her head and looked up into the woman’s eyes. Although the woman’s face smiled, the eyes held the girl’s own with a, could it be, nervousness?
Again the girl looked down at her hands.
“No. I’m leaving.”
Whoosh-suck went the heart.
The woman twittered out a laugh, took out a cigarette, and lit it. The girl noticed that the woman’s hands were shaking.
“Leave? But darling, you can’t leave. You are safe here.” The woman blew smoke skyward, and tapped ashes out on to the floor.
The girl stood, and looked directly into her eyes. “No.”
She reached out and took the cigarette from the woman’s mouth and dropped it on to the floor. The woman stared back in disbelief as the girl turned and walked toward the vaulted passageway.
“Darling, be reasonable,” stammered the woman. “What about that hideous beast? I won’t allow it.”
The girl, who had once been named Lisa, continued to walk toward the passageway. Behind her the woman began to age.
“Angela!” The woman collapsed to the floor and let out a wail. “Lisa!”
But still the girl did not look back. She entered the passageway and continued walking, the wailing echoing from the walls. And if she had turned, she would have seen the woman shrivel, and shrivel, and finally scuttle off like a spider. Up the stairs besides the heart the spider went. It leapt into the webbing of pipes, and scurried up and out of site. Then, with a rushing whir the ladybugs all took flight, and rose like a red mist.
Whoosh-suck, went the heart. Whoosh-suck.
Slowly the passageway dimmed. The girl continued to walk forward with one hand reaching out and the other trailed along the wall beside her. And as the light became ever more faint, she felt fear start to grow within her. Somewhere up ahead, she knew, was the thing, the rasping breath, and the footsteps. Her own breath came more quickly, but even so she continued walking forward until all was completely dark. Still, carefully and slowly she continued on until…
It was right beside her. How the girl knew, she wasn’t sure, but she froze in place.
“What are you?” the girl whispered.
A rasping of breath answered her, and then she felt her hand being taken up by another’s. She felt it tug, and she heard shambling footsteps leading her through the pitch.
“Where are we going?” the girl’s voice quavered.
Only now she felt a familiar air. Cool and wet, the air enveloped her. She pulled the guiding hand to a halt, and feeling out with her foot to the right and then to the left, she felt where the floor to either side ended in nothingness. Again the hand tugged at her own, and stumbling fearfully behind, Lisa followed.
In fact, so intent on controlling her fear was she, that the girl at first didn’t hear the voice. A very small, very light voice.
“It’s going to be o.k.” said the voice.
The shambling thing in front of the girl let go of her hand.
The girl trembled, afraid to make even the slightest of moments.
“Who’s there?”
“I’m down here.”
Patting with her hand, the girl felt about her – stone, and stone, and then something soft and plushy that crawled on to the palm of her hand. She lifted the hand until it was inches from her face and blew. Instantly a glow of light appeared, and there in the girl’s palm was a furry creature. It looked something like a very tiny hedgehog, only with the softest of fur instead of quills. And strangest of all it was glowing. The girl blew again and the glow brightened.
“Hey, that tickles.”
The girl looked around her and startled. She was on a circular platform from which thin bridges of stone radiated out over a pit of pure black. Her mind screamed out, “What if I had fallen!”
“Then you would have fallen forever,” said the furry creature in her hands. Its glow was starting to fade, so once more the girl brightened it with her breath, and took another look around herself.
In the middle of the circular platform was a very large box, painted baby blue, that was as tall and wide as herself. And standing in front of the box was the strangest creature she had ever seen. It was a young woman’s body — skin and legs and hips and arms. Except where a head should have been there was nothing. Even so, the girl felt that it was looking at her. The girl turned her attention back the creature in her hand.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“I’m your verb.”
The thing shifted its tiny feet on the girl’s palm.
“I’ve been waiting since forever for you to find me.”
The girl bent in close and whispered, “O.k., but who is she?”
“A friend,” whispered back the verb.
The girl, who had once been named Lisa, looked over, and the woman-thing turned and bumped into the box.
“And where am I?”
“At the beginning silly,” said the small voice. “It’s time for us to go.”
The woman-thing was clumsily moving around the box, reaching up and lifting back it’s folded in top. When she had done this, she proceeded to heft herself up and over and disappear into the box.
“Where are we going?” asked the girl. With the verb in one hand she, too, approached the box.”
“I don’t know yet,” said the verb.
The girl, who had once been named Lisa, reached up and, being careful to protect the verb, she strained with her free arm and was just able to pull herself up and over into the box. She then sat back against one of the walls as the woman-thing pulled the tops of the box closed above them. And as the last top came down, the girl heard the verb whisper, “I just know it’s somewhere I’ve been heading toward my whole life.”
She felt the warmth of sunshine on her face. Birds were calling, and the air was fresh and smelled of new-green. She opened her eyes, and found that she was lying on grass in the midst of a large garden. Everywhere was color and activity. Honeybees moved from one flower to the next. Butterflies settled through the air. Birds rose and fell through the sky high overhead.
She sat up, and found that in one hand she clutched a feather. Around her the gardens stretched up to a palace of soft, honey-colored stone that had large, arched windows. Leaning back on her hands, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back.
“I’m home,” she thought. “This is my home.”
She paused.
“And my first word shall be a name of my own choosing. And I choose…”