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n3m3sis43The sky seems almost too big; it's the deepest blue I've ever seen, dotted with wisps of puffy clouds. I'm standing before a gaping ravine, its bottom obscured by gnarled black branches. On the opposite side of the chasm is a stand of trees - their leaves are a brilliant green.
I stretch and inhale deeply. The air is so clean and pure it stings my lungs.
Other than the canyon and the vivid colors, what I find the most striking is the silence. No birds wheel and call in the sky, and if there are people here, I don't see them. Not even the crash and bang of machines disturbs the quiet.
I'm trying to decide whether it's peaceful or creepy here when it finally hits me.
Daisuke was supposed to be here too.
* * * * *
Daisuke and I are stretched out on lawn chairs in his back yard. There's a nice breeze, and it's like old times - or it would be if he'd just stop nagging me. Ever since he found that matchbook in my pocket, he's been begging me to write him into one of my stories.
"Please, Sam?" he asks, his brown eyes plaintive.
"Daisuke, I already said no," I mutter, looking away.
"Come on, it'd be fun!"
"And by fun you mean incredibly dangerous?"
"You always seem to make it out okay." He's pouting now, as if that will change my mind.
"That's pretty funny, considering how often you have to come to my rescue."
"Well, if I were with you in the first place..." he says, his voice trailing off.
"I'd probably just drag you down with me," I sigh.
This power is a gift, but it's also torn my life apart. Though I wouldn't give it up for anything, I'm not about to let it hurt the one friend I have left.
"I'll be fine, Sam," he insists. "We'll look out for each other, just like we always do."
* * * * *
Though I call Daisuke's name until I'm hoarse, the only response is the hollow echo of my own voice. Suppressing the urge to panic, I sit down on the rocky ledge. Plumes of dust swirl up from the ground beneath me, pale against the too-blue sky. I hug my knees and contemplate what to do next.
Maybe he didn't make it here at all. There's no way for me to find out unless I go home too. Since I can't return from the story world at will, this possibility is out. Besides, what if he's here somewhere? I don't know what would happen if I left without him - the possibilities are enough to make me shudder.
Before I've come up with any answers, I hear rocks falling in the ravine below. I look down to see a person emerging from the knot of branches. For a moment, I'm filled with relief, but as the figure continues to inch upward I can see it's not Daisuke. Instead, it's an older man with dusty brown hair. He's climbing up a rope I didn't notice until now.
My palms are slick with nervous sweat as I watch the strange man's slow ascent. When he heaves himself over the lip of the canyon with a loud groan, I want to pepper him with questions. By the time I've waited for him to catch his breath, it's too late. He's cursing under his breath and muttering about "rude bastards" and "xenophobes".
"Excuse me?" I say.
Startled, the man straightens up and looks at me for the first time. "And who might you be?" he asks with an accent I can't place. Dressed in a long leather coat, gloves, and pants so covered in dust it's hard to determine their original color, he is studying me with great interest.
"I'm Sam," I tell him, offering my hand.
"Not from around here, are you?" he says, taking my hand slowly. He holds it limply, as if he's not sure what to do with it. "Lucky for you, I'm not like the people on the other side. A ruder bunch I've never met in my life!"
"The other side?" I ask. I'm not really interested, but maybe this man can help me find Daisuke.
"My whole life, I've wondered if there were people on the other side of the ravine," he says with a bitter laugh.
"I could hear their whispers the moment I walked into their godforsaken tavern. My hair, my clothes, my accent - hell, even the way I walked - were different, foreign. A deaf man could have heard them snickering behind their hands, but I ignored them until they began openly mocking me. When they started buzzing about the 'vulgar' way I drank from my straw, I'd had enough. I gave them what for and walked out."
"They don't sound very pleasant," I agree, doing my best to feign interest.
"Pleasant? Hell, I've seen warthogs with better manners," he snorts.
Nodding, I look at him with what I hope is a sympathetic gaze. Drawing a deep breath, I steel myself to ask the question before he rambles on for another ten minutes. Before I can say a word, though, he speaks again.
"You know, it's a damn shame I didn't warn that other traveler about them. He looked even more out of place than I."
* * * * *
"How's your research going?" Daisuke asks as we sit at a table in our favorite diner. Though my burger is cooked perfectly, it tastes like sand in my mouth. These days, everything in the real world seems muted somehow.
Since I know he'll never let up until I give in, I've begun testing the limits of my powers. The matchbook proved that I could bring items back from the story world, but I need to know if the reverse holds true. My first experiments were with paper clips and fruit, but now I've moved on to bigger and better things.
"It's looking pretty promising," I say, with more enthusiasm than I feel.
"Really? Tell me more," he says, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
"I caught a tree frog in my parents' back yard," I tell him. "He's my first live test subject, and he passed with flying colors."
What I don't tell him is that my frog experiment was preceded by weeks of sleepless nights. Tossing and turning, I dreamed of tiny hopping creatures trapped between worlds. On one memorable night, every time I closed my eyes, visions of exploding frogs danced behind my lids. If the idea of hurting a frog scares me this much, how can I put my best friend at risk?
"So... is it time yet?" he asks breathlessly.
My heart sinks. If it were up to me, it would never be time. There are too many things that could go wrong - and if they do, I'll never forgive myself.
"I still think this is a really bad idea," I say, "but I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
* * * * *
My descent into the ravine is so slow it's painful. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. My arms tingle and ache with the effort of supporting my weight. The coarse rope tears at my ungloved hands and it's all I can do to keep my grip.
I'm grateful for the traveler's reassuring presence. He's climbing down a few feet ahead of me, ready to catch me if my hands should slip. I ask him why he'd want to go down into the ravine again when he's only just made it back up. He barks his bitter laugh.
"If the people on the other side didn't like me," he says. "I can only imagine what they'll think of your friend."
It feels like we're hanging off of that rock face for an eternity. Finally, we reach the tangled branches that conceal the bottom. They tear at my arms as I push my way through, but I barely notice. All I care about is finding Daisuke.
I'm worried about the climb up the other side, despite the traveler's assurances that it's "easy as a summer's breeze". When we get to the bottom, I see there was no need for concern. While the cliff I've just scaled is steep and perilous, the other side can barely call itself a hill.
My stomach is in knots as I charge up the slope. What if Daisuke isn't here? Worse yet, what if something horrible has happened to him?
As I crest the hill, I see him. He's standing a few yards away, shoulders slumped and hands jammed in his pockets. Though he looks dejected, he seems to be in one piece.
Maybe he had the common sense to stay away from the locals, I think.
"DAISUKE!" I screech, forgetting that my throat is still raw from the hour or so that I spent yelling for him earlier. Then I'm running toward him.
Our eyes meet and his face lights up. Any sign of worry disappears without a trace.
"Sam!" he calls out. "I told you everything would be okay!"
* * * * *
"Tonight's the night, Sam!" Daisuke is all but vibrating with anticipation.
I pace the floor of my parents' basement and wish I could share his excitement. These days, it's hard for me to feel enthusiastic about much of anything that goes on in the real world.
We've been planning this for weeks, but I'm still nervous. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be doing it at all. I try one last time to talk him out of it, knowing before I even begin that it's futile.
"You know I can't really control this, right?" I say for the millionth time. "When it's over, I have no idea where we'll end up."
"I know, Sam," he says patiently, "I've seen what happens after the story ends, remember?" This is true. Daisuke knows better than anyone the toll that these trips take on me.
"There's a chance it won't even work at all," I remind him.
"Your trial runs have been very promising," he says.
"There's a big difference between a frog and a person, Daisuke."
"I have faith in you," he says, grinning. "Relax, Sam. It's going to be fine."
I can tell by his smile that he knows he's already won.
* * * * *
I am surrounded by blue and there is no up or down.
For some reason, I'm holding my breath and my chest is starting to hurt. I exhale, try to suck in air, but there is none. Something thick and cool flows into my lungs, heavy as smoke but smoother as it burns its way in. Around me, bubbles rise.
My body is on fire. I'm sputtering and flailing and gasping for breaths that won't come. The world is spinning. I can't make any sense of it.
Water.
I force my body to go limp. After what feels like forever, my face breaks the surface. Sunlight pierces my eyes. I'm coughing so hard I think I might black out or throw up - it's almost impossible to keep my head above water. My eyes adjust and I see a concrete wall not far away. It's hard to move but I force myself to swim to it. When I finally reach the wall, I cling to the rough concrete like a lifeboat.
My arms are rubber. I can barely find the strength to pull myself out. Another fit of coughing overtakes me and I crumple to the ground. The pavement feels like warm sandpaper on my skin but I have no desire to move. After several minutes, I recover enough to look around. I'm back in the real world and it seems as dull as ever.
When I first began taking these trips, returning to the real world was confusing. It took minutes, sometimes hours, before I remembered where I'd been. The memories would come to me in flashes, fragments that didn't always fit together. Though the physical act of coming back is as painful as it's ever been, I remember everything now.
Every time I return, the "real world" feels a little less solid. It's as if the worlds I write are reality now and this other place is the imaginary one.
I hope this isn't reality, because Daisuke isn't here.
I stretch and inhale deeply. The air is so clean and pure it stings my lungs.
Other than the canyon and the vivid colors, what I find the most striking is the silence. No birds wheel and call in the sky, and if there are people here, I don't see them. Not even the crash and bang of machines disturbs the quiet.
I'm trying to decide whether it's peaceful or creepy here when it finally hits me.
Daisuke was supposed to be here too.
Daisuke and I are stretched out on lawn chairs in his back yard. There's a nice breeze, and it's like old times - or it would be if he'd just stop nagging me. Ever since he found that matchbook in my pocket, he's been begging me to write him into one of my stories.
"Please, Sam?" he asks, his brown eyes plaintive.
"Daisuke, I already said no," I mutter, looking away.
"Come on, it'd be fun!"
"And by fun you mean incredibly dangerous?"
"You always seem to make it out okay." He's pouting now, as if that will change my mind.
"That's pretty funny, considering how often you have to come to my rescue."
"Well, if I were with you in the first place..." he says, his voice trailing off.
"I'd probably just drag you down with me," I sigh.
This power is a gift, but it's also torn my life apart. Though I wouldn't give it up for anything, I'm not about to let it hurt the one friend I have left.
"I'll be fine, Sam," he insists. "We'll look out for each other, just like we always do."
Though I call Daisuke's name until I'm hoarse, the only response is the hollow echo of my own voice. Suppressing the urge to panic, I sit down on the rocky ledge. Plumes of dust swirl up from the ground beneath me, pale against the too-blue sky. I hug my knees and contemplate what to do next.
Maybe he didn't make it here at all. There's no way for me to find out unless I go home too. Since I can't return from the story world at will, this possibility is out. Besides, what if he's here somewhere? I don't know what would happen if I left without him - the possibilities are enough to make me shudder.
Before I've come up with any answers, I hear rocks falling in the ravine below. I look down to see a person emerging from the knot of branches. For a moment, I'm filled with relief, but as the figure continues to inch upward I can see it's not Daisuke. Instead, it's an older man with dusty brown hair. He's climbing up a rope I didn't notice until now.
My palms are slick with nervous sweat as I watch the strange man's slow ascent. When he heaves himself over the lip of the canyon with a loud groan, I want to pepper him with questions. By the time I've waited for him to catch his breath, it's too late. He's cursing under his breath and muttering about "rude bastards" and "xenophobes".
"Excuse me?" I say.
Startled, the man straightens up and looks at me for the first time. "And who might you be?" he asks with an accent I can't place. Dressed in a long leather coat, gloves, and pants so covered in dust it's hard to determine their original color, he is studying me with great interest.
"I'm Sam," I tell him, offering my hand.
"Not from around here, are you?" he says, taking my hand slowly. He holds it limply, as if he's not sure what to do with it. "Lucky for you, I'm not like the people on the other side. A ruder bunch I've never met in my life!"
"The other side?" I ask. I'm not really interested, but maybe this man can help me find Daisuke.
"My whole life, I've wondered if there were people on the other side of the ravine," he says with a bitter laugh.
"I could hear their whispers the moment I walked into their godforsaken tavern. My hair, my clothes, my accent - hell, even the way I walked - were different, foreign. A deaf man could have heard them snickering behind their hands, but I ignored them until they began openly mocking me. When they started buzzing about the 'vulgar' way I drank from my straw, I'd had enough. I gave them what for and walked out."
"They don't sound very pleasant," I agree, doing my best to feign interest.
"Pleasant? Hell, I've seen warthogs with better manners," he snorts.
Nodding, I look at him with what I hope is a sympathetic gaze. Drawing a deep breath, I steel myself to ask the question before he rambles on for another ten minutes. Before I can say a word, though, he speaks again.
"You know, it's a damn shame I didn't warn that other traveler about them. He looked even more out of place than I."
"How's your research going?" Daisuke asks as we sit at a table in our favorite diner. Though my burger is cooked perfectly, it tastes like sand in my mouth. These days, everything in the real world seems muted somehow.
Since I know he'll never let up until I give in, I've begun testing the limits of my powers. The matchbook proved that I could bring items back from the story world, but I need to know if the reverse holds true. My first experiments were with paper clips and fruit, but now I've moved on to bigger and better things.
"It's looking pretty promising," I say, with more enthusiasm than I feel.
"Really? Tell me more," he says, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
"I caught a tree frog in my parents' back yard," I tell him. "He's my first live test subject, and he passed with flying colors."
What I don't tell him is that my frog experiment was preceded by weeks of sleepless nights. Tossing and turning, I dreamed of tiny hopping creatures trapped between worlds. On one memorable night, every time I closed my eyes, visions of exploding frogs danced behind my lids. If the idea of hurting a frog scares me this much, how can I put my best friend at risk?
"So... is it time yet?" he asks breathlessly.
My heart sinks. If it were up to me, it would never be time. There are too many things that could go wrong - and if they do, I'll never forgive myself.
"I still think this is a really bad idea," I say, "but I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
My descent into the ravine is so slow it's painful. Sweat pours down my face, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. My arms tingle and ache with the effort of supporting my weight. The coarse rope tears at my ungloved hands and it's all I can do to keep my grip.
I'm grateful for the traveler's reassuring presence. He's climbing down a few feet ahead of me, ready to catch me if my hands should slip. I ask him why he'd want to go down into the ravine again when he's only just made it back up. He barks his bitter laugh.
"If the people on the other side didn't like me," he says. "I can only imagine what they'll think of your friend."
It feels like we're hanging off of that rock face for an eternity. Finally, we reach the tangled branches that conceal the bottom. They tear at my arms as I push my way through, but I barely notice. All I care about is finding Daisuke.
I'm worried about the climb up the other side, despite the traveler's assurances that it's "easy as a summer's breeze". When we get to the bottom, I see there was no need for concern. While the cliff I've just scaled is steep and perilous, the other side can barely call itself a hill.
My stomach is in knots as I charge up the slope. What if Daisuke isn't here? Worse yet, what if something horrible has happened to him?
As I crest the hill, I see him. He's standing a few yards away, shoulders slumped and hands jammed in his pockets. Though he looks dejected, he seems to be in one piece.
Maybe he had the common sense to stay away from the locals, I think.
"DAISUKE!" I screech, forgetting that my throat is still raw from the hour or so that I spent yelling for him earlier. Then I'm running toward him.
Our eyes meet and his face lights up. Any sign of worry disappears without a trace.
"Sam!" he calls out. "I told you everything would be okay!"
"Tonight's the night, Sam!" Daisuke is all but vibrating with anticipation.
I pace the floor of my parents' basement and wish I could share his excitement. These days, it's hard for me to feel enthusiastic about much of anything that goes on in the real world.
We've been planning this for weeks, but I'm still nervous. If it were up to me, we wouldn't be doing it at all. I try one last time to talk him out of it, knowing before I even begin that it's futile.
"You know I can't really control this, right?" I say for the millionth time. "When it's over, I have no idea where we'll end up."
"I know, Sam," he says patiently, "I've seen what happens after the story ends, remember?" This is true. Daisuke knows better than anyone the toll that these trips take on me.
"There's a chance it won't even work at all," I remind him.
"Your trial runs have been very promising," he says.
"There's a big difference between a frog and a person, Daisuke."
"I have faith in you," he says, grinning. "Relax, Sam. It's going to be fine."
I can tell by his smile that he knows he's already won.
I am surrounded by blue and there is no up or down.
For some reason, I'm holding my breath and my chest is starting to hurt. I exhale, try to suck in air, but there is none. Something thick and cool flows into my lungs, heavy as smoke but smoother as it burns its way in. Around me, bubbles rise.
My body is on fire. I'm sputtering and flailing and gasping for breaths that won't come. The world is spinning. I can't make any sense of it.
Water.
I force my body to go limp. After what feels like forever, my face breaks the surface. Sunlight pierces my eyes. I'm coughing so hard I think I might black out or throw up - it's almost impossible to keep my head above water. My eyes adjust and I see a concrete wall not far away. It's hard to move but I force myself to swim to it. When I finally reach the wall, I cling to the rough concrete like a lifeboat.
My arms are rubber. I can barely find the strength to pull myself out. Another fit of coughing overtakes me and I crumple to the ground. The pavement feels like warm sandpaper on my skin but I have no desire to move. After several minutes, I recover enough to look around. I'm back in the real world and it seems as dull as ever.
When I first began taking these trips, returning to the real world was confusing. It took minutes, sometimes hours, before I remembered where I'd been. The memories would come to me in flashes, fragments that didn't always fit together. Though the physical act of coming back is as painful as it's ever been, I remember everything now.
Every time I return, the "real world" feels a little less solid. It's as if the worlds I write are reality now and this other place is the imaginary one.
I hope this isn't reality, because Daisuke isn't here.
