Bookstore on the Corner

Image courtesy of eapartak collection

My skin tingled my heart raced as if I had been reunited with an old lover. The musty smell of paper, the scent of old books caressing my senses. My quest was to find as many used bookstores across the country that I could.  I wanted to see how they were set up and how they were managed so one day I could have my own.

I know books are supposed to be a thing of the past.  Everyone has a Kindle or whatever each corporation calls theirs. I even fought with some elderly women in a bookstore about them. ‘All books will be assessable as e-books one day - even textbooks’ they said. But what if I love books. Love the smell - love the feel of them. Love what running my fingers along the binding does to me and where it takes my mind, why do I have to give that up? ‘You do,’ they told me, ‘it’s the way it is now.’ That is something I cannot surrender myself to accept. I have my wants and my desires in life and no one will control what they are.

This shop looked abandoned from the outside, the old building was deteriorated. The brick needed tuck-pointing and most of the windows were boarded up. The faded, red painted sign on the only window still in place just said ‘Bookstore.’  The rest of the town was new construction, with a new bookstore/café across the street. No one seemed to care that this building stood in rotted condition falling away around itself. It stood there as if it were invisible, defying what everyone dictated a brick and mortar bookstore should look like, even better, defying the fact actual books would soon be a thing of the past. I loved this rebellious store. It defined me, a non-conformist standing alone conquering the world.

I almost decided not to stop here, but just go on to the next town. This place was so far from any populated area, but part of me liked that idea.  My computer search directed me to this location, those websites are not always reliable and seeing this place I really doubted it was still in business. I got out of my car and looked through the one large window that was not boarded up.  It held a display of all my favorite classics, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The Jungle, Alice in Wonderland, The Complete Works of Edger Allen Poe, just to name only a few. I knew I needed to make this stop on my bookstore quest. This one could give me all the information I needed regarding how to be a bookstore owner. I came all this way - I had to at least see if I could get in.

The door creaked as I stepped into this dark mysterious old shop. The wooden floor seemed to give at my every step, and that musty perfume of old paper affected me as always. This store seemed to have dampness unlike the others and a scent that was familiar, but also foreign to my senses. My eyes raced over the shelves filled with books from floor to ceiling. I could see dust had collected on the bindings and cobwebs meandered down each shelf like a snake’s twisted path in the dust. I looked up to a mezzanine and a beautifully carved dark oak railing. Behind the railing were ladders, the kind that had wheels and rolled on a track above shelves so you could reach every precious book near the ceiling. This place looked just like pictures of old time libraries I had seen in books and movies. I felt as if I had stepped into my own heaven, a place where I could spend the rest of my life.

“Welcome to my store Miss. I have the feeling I have what you want.”

I was startled by the voice behind me and turned around to see who had pulled me back to my earthy existence. Behind me stood a tiny old man with thick glasses, thinning salt and pepper hair and a pencil thin mustache sitting above his top lip like a skinny little caterpillar. The typical stereotype of the bookish person I had created in my mind.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if anyone was here, the store seems abandoned.” I continued to look in wonder around the store as I talked. “I’m sure you do have everything I am looking for. Are you opened for business?” I was starting to feel a little uneasy suddenly thinking I could be trespassing and this cute little old man may pull out a pistol and shoot me at any minute.

“Oh yes I am opened for business, but business is slow these days. People don’t want to read the old classics. They don’t even want a real book anymore,” he sighed as he also looked around with the look of a loving father admiring his children.

“I guess I could get the new things people want so I could lure customers in. I keep hearing I need to change with the times in order to keep the business going, but I just can’t.”  He let out a big sigh again looking around, “I’m getting too old, it is time to let go. This store has been in my family for generations. I love and care for these books the same as every member of my family has in the past, but now, now it will just die. I keep hoping some young person may be interested in keeping it all alive. Anyway you don’t need to hear an old man’s sob story. My name is Mortimer,” he said with a little bow of his head. “Anything I can help you with please do not hesitate to ask. I can tell you about any book or about anything in general”.

Here I was standing in my dream with this lonely old man. “I’m Angela. I love books, love the old stores. I want to one day own a store like this. I have been researching old bookstores across the country. I must admit there are not very many left and yours – well I must say it is the store I have seen in my dreams”.

It was the store of my dreams, even down to the big library table in the corner surrounded by dark leather chairs that proudly wore cracks and lines from many years of use. As I spoke his eyes were bright and his mouth turned with a slight knowing grin. He just stood there looking at me as I engulfed the surroundings.

“Angela, you are a blond heavenly messenger sent to this Dead Sea of Books. The books are dying. Look around while you can, it will soon be gone.  Now, please excuse me, I have some work to do, as I said, I will be happy to answer any questions when you are finished,” and off he disappeared into the dusty darkness of the store.                              

I looked around, then slowly I moved up the creaking stairs to the mezzanine level, the more I looked it seemed I found, resting on the dusty shelves, every book I ever read and those I still wanted to read.  I didn’t see how I could ever leave this place. It would take me an eternity to read all the stories this heaven held.  I coughed with each breath as the dust swirled in the air and found its way to my nostrils into my throat and lungs.  Dust from the words of the authors I adored, their creativity choking me, consuming and becoming part of me as I slid each volume off the ancient shelves.

After a few minutes had passed Mortimer ascended the stairs, with a floating like magical movement. He held a tray with a teapot, and sandwiches that rested on delicate china that was trimmed in gold with pale pink rosebuds.

“I thought you may be hungry and thirsty,” he said has he gently set the tray on the library table without a single drop of tea spilling.  “You have been up here for hours.”

Hours I tried to exclaim, but the dust in my throat captured me into another hard coughing spell. Mortimer handed me the tea and told me to drink it to clear my throat. I took the cup from him and swallowed the warm tea to bathe and soothe my parched throat.

“Thank you I seemed to have developed a cough, all the dust from these old books I have been in contact with I think,” I then took another sip of the sweet warm tea.

“Honey is the answer. Honey in the tea it is a natural way to keep the throat clear. After awhile your body gets use to the old paper and dust, just give it time,” he motioned for me to sit down.

We sat in silence as we ate our sandwiches. Finally Mortimer dabbed his mouth with the white linen napkin.  He looked me straight in the eyes, “Well what do you think? This can all be yours with no more searching – this is what you’ve been looking for.”

I gulped down the last of my sandwich in disbelief.  Was this old man offering me this store filled with these valuables?  It seemed too good to be true, a dream, it had to be a dream.

“I love the place. I would give anything to have it, but I don’t have the kind of money to purchase a place with the assumed value of this. I’ve been searching for information to learn about having a place. To start out slow and build up to this.”

“No need to build up, no need to start slow, it is all here now,” he moved his arms around and then in front of me as if gathering the building and handed to me. “You don’t need money. I am giving it to you.”

“Wait, just a minute. You told me this has been in your family for generations. It has to mean a lot to you, how can you just give it away”?

“You love the books. My books need to be loved. I know you will cherish them, take care of them, I see it in your eyes. Make an old man happy, stay and run my store.”

“What about family? Your family may be upset if you give away property that rightfully belongs to them.”  My cough was getting worse with each sentence I uttered. My emotions were running wild. I could get my life dream by taking this gift, or be sued from his family for taking advantage of an old man. I didn’t know what to do; he seemed serious about handing it over to me.

“There is only my grandson – Thanatos,” he said as he gave me more tea. “He is young like you and loves the books too. But he says he can’t run something that is dying, at least not by himself, and we all know this is dying.”

Grandson. I get it now, nerdy - ugly grandson who can’t get a girl. Grandpa is his matchmaker.  Sure hypnotize a book-loving female with a business to get loser Thanatos a bed partner. He figures I won’t see what a nightmare the grandson is if I get my dream for free.

“Mortimer, I don’t think you have the authority to give this away without your grandson’s approval. This is a generous offer, but I can’t take your store.”

“I have all the authority - this is my bookstore.”

Each thing I said he had a comeback. I felt as if I were playing chess with a master and soon I would hear ‘checkmate’ and surrender the game to him. But would I lose or win, for losing the game I would win the store I so wanted.

“Thanatos will be here later. We will all talk and then make it final. Look around some more, you have seen nothing yet,” he stood up and gathered the plates and cups, then floated back down the stairs.

I explored the store some more.  Up on the third floor was a children’s section. I took an old copy of ‘Pinocchio’ off a top shelf, not the modern tale with the cute innocent marionette that turned into a boy, but the story that upset me as a child where Pinocchio killed the talking cricket that tried to teach him how to be good. Next on the shelf was The Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales, the originals not the tamed down versions most of us grew up with.

Wandering into the next room I noticed a door near the back of the room.  Getting closer I read the words on a small metal sign: No Admittance - Owners Only. Of course my hand immediately went to the antique glass doorknob, as I tried to turn it I heard a chair move, looking behind me there was Mortimer and someone else I could not see clearly.

“Do you not read Angela? I thought you turned down the offer of ownership presented to you. Was I mistaken?”  He then stepped aside to reveal the shadowed figure behind him.  “This is my grandson Thanatos. I think you two may have much to discuss.”

I recognized him, tall with short black hair, eyes so blue the sky would be jealous. There he stood another one of my dreams. It was as if there was a camera in my brain projecting my thoughts and desires for the world to see. He took a step toward me his hand outstretched to shake mine.

“Hello Angela. Grandpa Mort has told me about you.”

“So nice to meet you Thanatos,” I took his hand to shake but my body shook more.

“Please call me Than. So you want a bookstore, but you don’t like this one?”

I could feel the hot rush of embarrassment color my face. “No. I mean yes. I mean I want a store and I love this one, but Mortimer, your grandfather wants to give it to me. I can’t do that.”

He tilted his head and stared at me with those eyes, and smiled the same knowing smile as Mortimer. “But it’s your dream, it’s why you started your quest. So why would you turn your back on such an opportunity?”

I looked back ready to tell him why, but I didn’t really know why. It was the place I wanted all my life, the place I would have given my last penny for. Here it was being given to me for a reason I did not know, and I was turning it down. I guess that was the answer, for what reason was I getting this?  I started my quest to learn about bookstores. Could I really walk away from here, not only having the opportunity of learning how to manage a bookstore, but to own one. I was ready to tell Than my answer and another coughing spell consumed me.

“It’s the book dust, you will get used to it,” Than said. “Grandpa Mort why aren’t you taking care of her?”

“I’ve been trying to Thanatos, you take care of her.”

Than lead me over to a chair to sit and took a throat lozenge from his pocket and gave it to me.  “Contains honey it will…”

“I know- I know- it will keep the throat clear,” I took the wrapper off the lozenge and popped it in my mouth.

“Grandpa Mort why don’t you leave us alone. I have to talk with Angela.”

Mortimer made a grumpy sound and turned and disappeared from the room.

“You have to excuse him, he comes on a little heavy sometimes”.

“You’re telling me. What kind of game is he playing anyway? Now tell me why would he give a store like this to me?”

Than shook his head and grinned. “Well he doesn’t mean he would just hand it over to you, he would like me to have it. I told him it was too much work for something that is all but dead.  He thinks if he finds me a business partner I will take it. He loves this place. He loves his books and doesn’t want to see the place dead and gone. You love the books as much as he does, it’s what you want too, and he sees that.” He said his words, and then just stared at me as if waiting for my next move.

What should I do? Here was my opportunity, something I would give anything -everything to have.  Did fate bring me here? Would I be crazy to pass this up? I looked at those irresistible eyes. I was picturing the two of us working in the shop together - forever.  Should it matter that some people think books are dead? I don’t. I don’t think Than really does either. Mortimer seemed to love the idea, seemed it was his plan all along, like he knew I would be walking through that door today.

“Come let me show you something,” he led me over to the forbidden door, opened it and told me to follow him inside. The room was very cool and dark.  Than turned on the light. I was surprised at how large the room was it seemed much too large compared to the size of the building.

“This room holds the oldest and most precious volumes. First editions of every classic ever published. We even have the first book ever printed,” he said pointing to the shelf to his right.

“You can’t mean the Gutenberg Bible?”  My voice seemed to get lost as I tried to get the words out.

“Well, yes we have that too. But I was talking about the Diamond Sutra, it was printed around 868 AD.”

I stood there with my mouth half opened, not sure what the words were Than was telling me. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a Buddhist religious text, written in Chinese and printed on paper from woodblock, believed to be the oldest book. But one never knows what may yet surface that could be older.”

Than walked over to me. Taking my hands and in a soft sensual voice he asked, “What would you give to have all of this?”

My mind was spinning with the thought of having all these books. To be the owner of the oldest books known to mankind was beyond anything I could imagine.  I didn’t even care how they got possession of such treasures. My heart was pounding out of my chest, my breath out of control. What would I have to do to acquire this? How was I led here to find such treasures? I was ready to spend eternity here. To live forever with these cherished books. “I’d give my life for all this,” I said without hesitation.

Than put his arms around me and pulled me close to him. “Checkmate,” he whispered with a smile.

Holding Memories

Image courtesy of mistermong /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

“If it’s any consolation for you, she died instantly.”  The words of the police officer played over in Rex Bernard’s head.  It was their tenth anniversary. They had plans to meet for dinner to celebrate.  It was bad enough the accident occurred on their anniversary but they had a ridiculous argument that morning over where to dine. He insisted she drive and meet him at the restaurant near his office.  Her argument was she didn’t like driving in unfamiliar areas, but she finally agreed.  Jill got lost.   She impetuously drove along the foreign streets trying to find the restaurant and missed the stop sign. A truck hit the side of her car.  She died instantly.

It was his first day back to the office since Jill’s death the month before. All the sympathetic stares and well-meaning words had exhausted him.  He couldn’t wait to return home to rest.  But he was reluctant to enter the empty house. It felt so cold and lonely since Jill was gone. A light rain dotted the sidewalk as he made his way to the door. He hesitated a moment before turning the key, not sure if it was the rain or tears that moistened his face.

Flipping on the light he saw something glistening on the kitchen table.  Feeling a sudden wave of vertigo he grabbed the doorframe to steady himself.   There on the kitchen table sat a gold frame holding a picture of him and Jill taken the night he proposed.  Rex picked it up looking at the image of the happy couple gazing at each other with eyes silently speaking love. He clutched the picture to his chest and wept.  He was puzzled at how the picture appeared on the kitchen table - and why?

The next night, still insisting on blocking happiness from his life, he was hit with another surprise.  Small pink roses sat on the kitchen table – the kind that made up Jill’s wedding bouquet.  Rex sat down at the table picking up the bouquet breathing in the delicate scent.  He caressed the soft fresh flowers thinking of their wedding day, picturing how beautiful Jill was and how happy they had been.  Again he sat weeping, blaming himself for her death and wondering how and why the flowers appeared.

Rex hurried home from work the next night to see what surprise awaited him.  On the kitchen table sat an opened cookbook.  He picked it up, “BBQ Meat Balls” he chuckled as he fingered the pages stained with BBQ sauce.  The first meal she made after they had gotten married. He laughed thinking of that night, picturing Jill and the kitchen splattered with the sauce.  He remembered how he wiped her cheek and kissed her sauce-splattered nose.  These memories were replacing the pain-filled places in his heart with joy.  But again he resisted the warmth of memories. Instead he embraced pain and regret as the sentinel to keep happiness from entering his devastated heart.

Nothing showed up for several weeks, until one night something sparkled brightly on the table.  Rex could not believe what he saw; there it was Jill’s wedding ring.   Hoping to ease his pain he had buried the ring with her. To keep it, he thought, would cause too much grief. Now all this was too much for him to handle.  Who was playing this trick on him? How were these items appearing? 

Later that night Rex was awaken by a dazzling light cascading over the bedroom walls.  There in the light blue radiance, looking beautiful like a princess stood Jill.  She reached her arms out toward him and in a soft voice said, “Rex don’t be tortured by my death.  Death is just another step in our existence.  I did not leave you. I only died and moved from this life to experience the beauty of the next.   One day we will be together again.  Be happy. Don’t waste life with regrets and sadness. Fill you heart with happiness and memories of the love we shared.  I left those memories for you, to remind you our time together was precious.  Keep the memories close. Remember me but enjoy and live the life you have now.”  She then blew him a kiss and disappeared. 

Rex sat in the dark room feeling a loving warmth embrace him.  He would hold these loving memories his wife gave him in his heart for all time. 

Eternal Ballerina

Image courtesy of sattva /FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Ballet was her only passion in life

Then he entered one cold autumn night

In the front row eyes fixed only on her

Back stage that night he came to meet her

As love fluttered inside both of their hearts

Now a new passion came to her life

Every night he came to watch her dance

While no other she saw in the room

Her performance on stage only for him

He asked for her to love only him

Love for him only was all she desired

Together forever they would dance

Late one October night he was to meet

In the parlor to take her away

There she waited ready to give him her heart

Hours soon passed as pain grew in her heart

Where was he at this night so important?

Dancing she would until they could meet

She danced and danced on that Halloween Eve

Soft music filling the room all night

Patiently she waited for her only love

Tonight she watches for that one love

Hoping he will show up for her this time

As she waits for him to take her away

Every year on Halloween Eve


© Copyright 2013   Eileen A Partak

                                                                               video courtesy of Andy Partak Imagery 

Swim in Time

An eerie short story....

Eighty-two years old I am and no one will believe a word I say.  They think I’m crazy, that I have dementia.  I know what happened in that pond but no one will listen to me.

It was a hot summer day; my friends Harry and Eddie and me had nothing to do and of course we would not admit we were bored and maybe wanted school to start soon. Being a kid isn't always so exciting and we would sit and talk about getting older, driving, working, being the adult in charge. All we wanted was for time to move faster so we could have these things. Our parents told us not to wish to grow up so fast, enjoy being a kid. They said life moves too quickly and we should enjoy the ride along the path, however slow it seemed to us at this time. We didn't want to listen to them. What did they know about the restrictions in a kid’s life; after all they were the adults in charge of what they wanted, in charge of the world. But today we were looking for kid things to do so we decided to sneak onto the old Smithburg property at the end of town.  It was a spooky old three-story house with a steeple and rotting clapboard siding that hadn't had a relationship with paint in decades. That old structure seemed to dare you to come in and explore it. But that isn't what called out to us that day. It was the big pond, the perfect place to be cooling off on a hot summer day and what twelve-year-old boy could resist that.

Every kid in town had been told not to step foot on the property because it was haunted by the Smithburg’s ghosts. No one remembered the Smithsburg’s ever living there, but all knew to stay away from the cursed property. Haunted or not the hot sizzling summer day was enough for us to listen to the seductive call of the pond.

“Joe, you sure this is safe to do?” Harry asked in a scared voice as we climbed the old wooden fence. “I don’t know of anyone who has ever gone swimming in that pond.”

“Chicken.  All we are going to do is swim. What can happen?  Or don’t you know how to swim?” I yelled back to him as I jumped down into the old yard filled with towering, determined, weeds and scary dead trees scattered around.

We all raced as fast as we could toward the pond. Once there we took off our shirts ready for the plunge into the cool water. As we surveyed the glistening water, we remembered the spine-chilling stories the old folks told about ghosts and ghouls kidnapping children, children who were never seen again. The three of us hesitated at the edge of the pond for a moment. Harry looked at us standing there petrified and shaking, now him being the brave one. “Who’s chicken now,” he shouted and jumped in feet first.

The water started to bubble as he went down in the dark blue depths.  Steam rose up and the water was boiling.   A blue light exploded across the pond with a loud crack that deafened us for a second. Then all was silent. The water was still and shiny like a mirror.  We stood motionless at the edge of the water afraid to even breathe.

“Do you  - think he is coming back up?” I asked Eddie. “Maybe we should go in after him.” Eddie shook his head with a horrified look on his face as the water started to boil again.

“ Don’t go in - the pond is haunted.  Harry is in trouble - or dead.  I’m going to get help,” Eddie stuttered, and then he climbed over the fence and ran swiftly down the road back to town.

Eddie was right Harry was in trouble. I had to save him.  I tried to remember everything I had learned in my life saving class. I closed my eyes. Held my breath. I jumped in head first into the dark boiling water, not even thinking what could happen to me.  To my surprise the water was cool, not scalding as I thought it would be.   It was dark in the water. Then I saw a dim light shining in the distance.  I started to swim to it and the closer I got the farther away it got.  It seemed like I was swimming toward that light for hours. The strangest thing of all, I was breathing under water.  Finally I reached the light at the mouth of a cave. To my surprise it was an entryway into a town.

This was an amazing place. There were buildings and streets. It looked much like home but also like pictures in a fairy-tale book my mother read to me when I was younger. I couldn’t believe this was in a cave under the water.  It was bright with daylight, but I saw no sun only a bright reflection from a mirror-like sky above.  I walked along the streets, which sparkled from the bright “sunlight” as if they were paved in crystals, blue, pink, yellow crystals. The buildings were wooden structures, painted bright whites and pale yellows and blues, all trimmed with colorful designs like I had once seen in another book of an alpine village. I knew this could not be real, I must have died and this was heaven.  I continued along the road lined with perfect shaped maple, oak, cypress and cedar trees.  Every tree that had every existed grew in this place. I neared a curve in the road and I could hear faint whimsical music in the distance. As I made the turn, there before me were large beautiful wisteria vines embracing an entrance to a park.  Beyond the gate there was a circus underway with hundreds of people enjoying themselves in the picturesque atmosphere.   I stopped in amazement looking at the sight before me, partly wanting to wake up from this dream and part of me wanting to stay forever and explore this new found wonder.

As I drank in this unbelievable sight a man, about my dad’s age, came running up to me smiling and calling my name.  “Joe, glad to see you,” he embraced me. I stood dumbfounded, my arms dangling at my sides wondering who was this man and how did he know my name.

 “Joe, it’s me Harry. Come on over and meet my family,” he then guided my stiff confused self over to a woman and three kids.  “This is Mattie my wife. The twins Jodie and Jamie. And the little guy is Joey, he’s named after you.” The little freckle faced redheaded boy looked up at me with a smile showing off the space where his two front teeth had fallen out.  “Hello thir,” he lisped through the tooth-space as he held out his pint-sized hand to shake mine. I looked at him then over at the two pre-teen girls snapping their chewing gum looking at me with silly smiles giggling and whispering to each other. They were my age and Harry was my dad’s age.  This made no sense at all.

“I’m sorry Joe I know this is confusing. It was for me in the beginning too. Mattie why don’t you take the kids over to the concession and get them something to eat. I’ll take Joe over to our place and let him rest a little. Give him a moment to take all this in.”

I watched his perfect little wife shepherd the kids and disappear in the crowd of people who seemed to be celebrating some holiday. This was getting way too eerie. Maybe this wasn't heaven.  Maybe I hit my head and was in some sort of coma. This had to be a dream. I only hoped it didn't turn into a nightmare.

I followed Harry out of the park and back down through the sparkly town I first entered. We walked for a short time then entered a picture perfect neighborhood filled with white clapboard sided houses, all with yards enclosed by little picket fences.  Apple trees and flowerbeds, overflowing with brightly colored blooms, swing sets and picnic tables, and brick barbecues were in every backyard.  Harry stopped at the last house on the block and swung opened the little gate and motioned me to enter.  I hesitated a moment then entered cautiously, now trying to will myself awake wanting this to be a dream.  This was scaring me too much to be heaven. 

“Sit. I’ll get us something to drink,” he disappeared into the house as I sat down in the over-sized Adirondack chair. Bees buzzed around from flower to flower, lured by the sweet nectar to pollinate and increase the fragrant backyard arboretum.  I heard a thump behind me. Turning I saw an apple fall and a chattering squirrel wildly run to his nest high in the tree. 

“Here we are Joe some of Mattie’s famous homemade lemonade.  This will refresh you.”  He handed me a glass filled with pale yellow liquid with crystal clear ice sparkling like everything else in this town.   “I know you need an explanation. This has to seem unreal to you,” Harry said has he sat down in the chair opposite me, “but I am not sure how to explain it.  I've never really figured it out myself,” he took a sip of his lemonade and looked around the yard.

He told me about the day he was with Eddie and me and jumped into the pond, finding the town the same way I did.  An elderly man and woman took him into their home and raised him as their own son. He grew up, became a doctor, got married and had his family.  Now we were both together again.

“I love this place Joe, seems nothing ever goes wrong. It’s always sunny and never stormy or overly hot like the day we went swimming in the pond. This is the ideal place for me to live and raise my family, my home forever.”

That’s what I couldn't understand, how could Harry be grown up with a family.  Just an hour ago he was a kid like me just looking to cool off on a hot summer day. Neither of us knew why or how this happened.

“I don’t know who you are, or how you know my name. I do know there is no way you are my friend Harry.” I got up to leave, but wasn't sure where I would go.

Harry got up and put his hands on my shoulders. “I know this is hard to understand.  You see, here time is different. It is fast, but yet it is normal, some sort of time travel maybe. I don’t know.  No one ever questions it they just accept it. It’s our life and we just accept it for what it is. You will too Joe, everyone does. You will get older, have a life and be happy like all of us. Just wait and see.”

“What if I leave right now, the same way I came here?” I stood tall and defiant and stared at him.

He laughed, shook his head and sat back down in the lawn chair. “I don’t know, no one has ever left, and no one ever wants to,” he took a sip of his lemonade and stared into the distance, “no one ever wants to.”

***

Well I stayed. He was right; it was the perfect place to live. He took me into his home to live with him and his family.  I went to school, a great school I really loved with more sports than academics. No bullies to pick on a scrawny kid, everyone was scrawny and all got along. Everything I wanted to do happened. Everyday was sunny never any rain or cold. Trees grew, flowers grew There was always enough food and snacks. I don’t know how it all happened, but it did and like everyone else I never questioned. I just enjoyed my life.

I grew older and decided to become an architect, designing impossible to build buildings that of course never were built. I didn't care. I was happy.

Love also entered my life.  I married Jodie one of the twins who had always been like my sister, but that suddenly changed and no one cared.  Actually everyone in town pretty much stayed within their own household.  Jodie and me had two kids, Randy and Sally.  Two perfect kids, they couldn't have been better if I had designed them myself. Funny thing, life was perfect, everyone was perfect, but some restlessness lived inside of me and I wasn't sure what it was.

My kids grew older, they got married, and I became a grandfather.  Life went on at a steady pace.  I started to notice changes in town, changes no one else saw.  I went one day to visit Harry. When I got to the end of the block I stopped quick and stared in disbelief, his house wasn't there.  Instead of the neat little house with the picket fenced yard where I grew up, there now stood a park with large shade trees, swing sets and children happily playing. 

“Where’s the house? Where’s Harry?” I shouted out as the children froze in their play and the mothers hurriedly pulled their babies away from the crazed old man. A young woman came over and put her arm around me and spoke to me as if I hadn't a brain cell alive.

“Get away from me,” I yelled pushing her to the ground, “don’t you see it’s gone. My old home, he’s gone, my father, my old playmate.” I sank to the ground my hands to my face sobbing, tears wetting my face and cascading through my fingers. “Gone – where – why?”

I let them take me home.  Jodie put me to bed and called Sally to come help her take care of me, telling her I had some sort of break down.  I couldn't get anyone to listen to me about Harry. Jodie thought I was crazy when I told her.  I thought she was crazy when she said she had no idea who I was talking about. How could she say that? Harry was her father, my stepfather, and my old childhood buddy. But as far as she was concerned, and everyone else, there was no Harry, she wasn't a twin but an only child. There was never a house on that spot. I just let them take care of me. Let them think what they wanted.  I never said anything more about Harry. Only I knew that he was real.

I lived a lifetime in that underground town. Seventy years to be exact. Life didn't seem as fun anymore. It was hard to get around the way I did once before. I started to doubt if anything was real. I started to notice more people disappearing and buildings gone with nothing but empty barren lots where trees and parks once stood.  I thought I should try getting out.  I remembered the way I entered and headed one day toward that spot.  It was a weed filled dark wicked looking forest. Not sure this was the answer for me, and I didn't have enough nerve to enter that place, I returned home.  I walked past the place day after day, it becoming more of a daily ritual than a real plan of escape.  It must have been the fear of the unknown that was stopping me, after all no one ever left, no one ever tried. 

My doubt about my life here got stronger each day.  As I lay in bed one morning I noticed there was no sunlight streaming through my bedroom window, no shimming golden light beams dancing on the dresser mirror as every other morning. A strange sound quietly erupted in the distance, with each eruption it became louder and louder.  What could it be, it sounded vaguely familiar but I couldn't get my thoughts to define it.  Then I jumped up from bed. It was thunder! I hadn't heard thunder since I was a kid living above the pond.  How could this be it never was cloudy, never rained all the years I lived here.

“Jodie,” I called but she didn't answer. I went through the house calling her name looking in every room but she was nowhere to be found.  I hurried outside into the pouring rainstorm with booming thunder and flashing lighting.  Half the neighborhood was gone. Barren land surrounded me. The more I fled the more things crumbled around me.  My only thought now was to get away from here.  I headed to the forest, by instinct I guess, survival was the thought in my mind and the portal in the forest my savior. I didn't hesitate when reaching the entrance as I had before. Moving fast I entered the darkness with on huge leap.

It was very dark and damp. The air smelled of rotted wood and moss. I heard noises above in the trees. Eyes focused to the darkness ahead of me, not wanting to know what was in those trees watching me, waiting for me to fall so they could consume my limp body.  The ground was muddy, the farther I moved ahead the more like quicksand it became.  I keep my forward trek to get away from the crashing and crumbling behind me. Home was on my mind. I needed to get back to my real home.  A loud explosion sounded directly behind me. Glancing back I saw the ground disappear into nothing but a black hole.  The quicksand and my advanced age slowed me, but my spirit to survive kept me going.  My heart pounded so hard I thought it would explode and I would be left dying here in this paradise that suddenly turned into a hellhole.  The scent in the air now smelled like dead rotted fish in the hot sun. The horrible odor made me want to vomit. Holding back the choking and gagging I willed my legs to move faster.

Thinking I could go no farther, I was ready to give up to the consuming blackness around me. Then there appeared in the distance a light, very far off but to me a fragment of hope.  Now all my concentration was focused on the light, the white pinpoint ahead, the sign to me that life could still exist. It seemed familiar to me.  Then I remembered following a similar light when I jumped into the pond those many years ago trying to save Harry. It seemed liked it took hours, days, maybe even years before I finally reached this light.  The bright sparkle shimmered and called me to embrace the warmth that it radiated. It looked like my mother assuring me all would be fine if I only would come to her. With one final burst of energy I jumped right into the blinding brightness. All went black.

I opened my eyes squinting into the brightness. I was soaking wet.  When my eyes started to adjust I heard the muffled sounds around me soon turn into voices.

“He’s coming around,” I heard a man’s voice say, “where do you think he came from?”

“Not sure,” another voice said, “here we are looking for some boys and find a second old man floating in the pond today. I don’t know where these old people come from. At least it looks like this one will make it. Kid over there doesn't know who they are. He still insists his two friends jumped in and never came out.” 

As they put me on a stretcher I looked around seeing ambulances, police, and divers all congregated around the pond. A covered form was being put into one of the ambulances. Was that Harry I wondered?  I tried to get up.

“Settle down old-timer, we got to get you to the hospital to get checked out,” the emergency tech said as he strapped me down. Over at the far end I saw twelve-year old Eddie looking at the water. He was crying.  I tried to shout out to him. He just looked up, bewildered and shivering, huge tears running down his cheeks as they took me away,

***

This nursing home is now my home. There is nothing to do but think of the past. Time passes differently for everyone.  Do we control our lives?  I think we are in control of much of it.  All I know is Eddie lived a terrifying afternoon that he would never forget the rest of his life, but he would have time to get over it. One day it would be only a memory, an old mysterious story to tell his kids and grandkids. At some point he wouldn't know if it was true or just a fantasy story he was told as a kid.  But he would have a long life, the way it should be.  Life is too short to wish for it to hurry. Enjoying the long road with every bump and curve is how it should be. I lived a full lifetime in a short seventy years that one afternoon. Not what I would wish for now.

Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak