I, Sim

[Lynet]

My name is Errol Waring. I am not a handsome guy. I might even be ugly. Depends on who you ask. My last girlfriend, for instance, will be pleased to list my worst features in sharp detail. My mother, on the other hand, had many good things to say about my face. But that was quite a few years ago, and if she were alive today, well, who knows. All this is to say, I couldn't very well complain about the condition of the house. We were well suited to each other, me and that house.

I complained anyway, because as humble as it was, it took every wretched simoleon I had to my name (a small account set aside for me by my mother,) leaving me with nothing for even the most basic of repairs. The agent just shrugged at my noise. What did I expect? Real estate values are out of sight. Where've I been?

Where have I been? I didn't tell him.

But would you look at this house! It’s hard to tell what happened to the front of it. Right up through the middle the shingles are off, exposing concrete block. Unusual construction, I think, but say nothing. One of the first floor windows is gone, filled in with concrete blocks which did not stop a tree from growing right through the wall into the living room. The tree is dead now. The agent pointed out that city code required the seller to replace the stairs because they were dangerous. He also replaced the toilet and the stove. The city inspectors had apparently said nothing about the floors. The agent suggested I be careful where I put my feet. The warning wasn't necessary. I could smell the basement and all the creepy crawlies that lived down there as soon as I stepped in the front door. The stench oozed up through the cracks in the boards. The agent wrinkled his nose, handed me the keys, and left.

OK, House, introduce yourself. I pulled out my little camera and took a handful of pictures. Pay attention, House, I said out loud. As soon as I can earn some cash, things are going to change for you and for me.

The house creaked. La cucaracha and his mates down below rustled.

[Lynet]

Sorry, folks. I just couldn't stand it, not having a story. :o


This is a new city and a new start for me. And I need to buy groceries and get some furniture. So I'm forced into the unfamiliar position of hunting for a job. Not that I'm lazy. Don't get me wrong. Earning the bread to pay the bills is one of those unfortunate circumstances of life that I've done before, but not recently, because you don't have to worry about the grocery bill when you're in the pokey. So maybe you didn’t know that because you haven’t been there. Lucky you. What was I doing there? A few years for breaking and entering. Jewels. Easy to pocket and trade.

Not any more! I'm going straight. Like an arrow. Jail cells are crowded, miserable, uncomfortable, foul smelling and hard on my bones. I think I might have caught a touch of arthritis. Disagreements with my cell mates didn't help the state of my face any, either. Sorry, Mom.

The camera, the clothes on my back, this ugly house and my own ugly face are my whole world now. Well, I do have one friend. He gave me the camera. Congratulations on getting parole, he said. The camera's not hot, he insisted. You won't get busted for it. Well thanks, Buddy, I said. I decided to keep the camera locked up anyway. Why take chances?

Who’s that freak in the mirror? Oh, yeah, it’s me. Maybe some breakfast would help. This morning it’s going to have to be a can of warm soda loaded with caffeine. I’m not ready to open that refrigerator door. I’m thinking some of the smell around here isn’t all from the basement.

I went for the first job listed in the paper--test subject. You’re hired, they said after I signed a form. I stand in a wind tunnel. Easy cash. And they paid me at the end of the day. It was a good feeling. I bought groceries that didn‘t require refrigeration.

When I got home later some neighbors banged on my door and introduced themselves. They seemed to expect to be fed so I gave them tuna fish sandwiches. I told a few jokes then said nice to meet you, it’s late, I’m tired, goodbye. I was feeling sort of lonely, but this group was just annoying. Maybe I’d meet someone interesting downtown.

So what do you think, House? You’ve been here a long time. Notice anyone you’d like to have under your roof? The House groaned as I left for the city.

[babewithbrains_14]

Grrr. We both produce sim stories on the same day, and yours is so totally better than mine. ;)

It's so deep.

I love it.

[Chris]

Nice :) Look forward the next installment :D

[Lynet]

Grrr. We both produce sim stories on the same day, and yours is so totally better than mine. ;)No, it absolutely is not better than yours. They're just totally different. I'm not even sure where mine is headed yet. It could crash and burn in 4 chapters. :rolleyes:

[person123]

I love how real he is. Cynicism always adds a nice touch to a story. And he isn't that ugly. :rolleyes:

[surprised_by_witches]

Hey, I'd date him.

Great story. I absolutely love it. I saw that you'd posted last night but was tired and didn't read it. I'm supposed to be working right now, but had to take a break and read your story.

I'm glad I did. Please, more! More!

And, I want that house for my sims. Did you create it yourself or just remodel it? It looks so real ...

[Sacharissa]

Love it! More please!!:D

[DuzzyGirl]

I like how he talks to the house. I know I do! :)

[Kristalrose]

Very cool, dear. :) Glad to see you having a new story. :)

[suitemichelle]

love the prologue..... more soup, please.

[babewithbrains_14]

Hehehe... why was I suddenly reminded of Oliver Twist?

[Lynet]

Thanks so much, everyone. The whole time at work today while I was doing menial data entry I was thinking about my little sim Errol Waring and my plans for him.

There are more than bugs in his basement, as you've probably guessed, and it's not a vampire or zombie. ;)

Chapters are on the way--Wednesday, I hope, in between housecleaning and a little more Christmas shopping.

Oh and by the way, SBW, it's one of the houses in the house bin with NL. Except I made it a mess using wall coverings provided with the EPs. Mostly Uni, I think, but I'm not positive about that.

[PlayLives]

There are more than bugs in his basement, as you've probably guessed, and it's not a vampire or zombie. ;)


....:confused:

[Lynet]

Her name is Katelyn Cox. And she is one fine-looking chick. She speaks my language and that ain’t the language of angels.

Call me Kate, she said. Oh, you gorgeous creature, I want to call you Mine. Her hair is red, her skin is the color of hot coffee and her eyes…now her eyes are what leave me deaf and dumb. I look into her eyes and I forget my name and the whole rest of the world.

I took her on a couple of dates to the diner. I splurged on pork chops for us. A little smooching in the car. She’s interested. I can tell. I don’t want to lose this woman.

Listen to me, House, we gotta clean up around here. No bugs, understand? A knockout chick like Kate won’t go for the bugs.

Blast, I can’t find the stairs to the basement. I know it’s down there. I can smell it. I can hear it. Someone must have bricked up the door in one of these walls. OK, House, I swear on my mother’s urn that if one single crawlie shows its buggy face to my date I’ll burn you to the ground. Got that?

100 simoleons to paint the kitchen. And another 300 give or take a few to put in a couple of cabinets. Not bad. Still need to replace that refrigerator but I haven’t quite got enough ‘moleons yet. I decide that whatever’s living in that fridge can’t be worse than the creeps I met in the lockup. So I open it up and scrub the thing out. You don’t want to hear about what I found inside. Let’s just say that wars were fought and lost within those metal walls and no one had come back for the bodies. I aired it out afterwards for a few days then hit the switch. Well, I‘ll be a simian‘s uncle! It worked.

Finally, a new bed! I needed a bed with more room on it, enough for two people. Some blinds in the windows. Looking better in here already. Wonder what Kate will think of me when she sees the place. Will she like us, House?

The house sneezed.

Someone’s in the house, is my first thought. I ran around in a rage, looking everywhere. Well, except for the basement because it's blocked off. I figured that if I couldn’t get there, neither could anyone else. I found a few dead crawlies--glad to see the exterminator had earned his fee--and no one else.

Must have been someone passing by outside. I called Kate to ask her over for dinner.

[Lynet]

We were ready, me and the house, when she arrived. I’d cooked spaghetti for us and I'd put candles and flowers on the table.

We talked about all sorts of stuff and got on real well. I flirted with her, got the signals I was hoping for and when I wrapped my arms around her for some serious kissing she didn’t push me off. In fact, she warmed up real nice.

So I showed her around the house.

Workers make a mess, don‘t they, she said. Get them to clean up after they finish the floor, she added, pointing.

I looked down and saw footprints. Bigger than my big feet. Hmmm. I’d done all the repairs myself so far. This is real bad, I thought. My house has been invaded. But I shrugged for Kate’s benefit and took her hand to show her around.

We ended up in the bedroom. I relaxed on the bed. She straightened the covers and lay down next to me. The next hour or so is none of your business.

Over breakfast the next morning she told me she’d had a strange dream. A tin man, she said.

What? I joked. Hope you weren’t thinking of me!

No, Baby, she said, I wasn’t. But I’ve never had a dream like that before. He clanked. He walked around the room. Looked out the window. He left. He clanked down the stairs. All that wine with dinner, I guess. Anyway, I’ve got to get out of here and get to work.

What kind of work is that?

I’m a police lieutenant, she said, then grinned at the look on my face. Close your mouth, Lover, she said, so I can kiss you. Don’t fret. I know your history, talked to your parole officer. See you later.

I watched her out the door then sat down at the table and stared at the flies attacking last night’s spaghetti on the kitchen counter. Whoa, House. We’ve both been invaded.

[surprised_by_witches]

I can't say enough good things about this story. I love your turns of phrase, the spareness of the writing, the whole voice of the character.

Wow, Lynet.

My favorite line to date: "Not the language of angels ... " Made me laugh out loud.

You go, girl.

[DuzzyGirl]

"Not the language of angels ... " Made me laugh out loud.
Same here!
The next hour or so is none of your business.
That one also made me laugh.

I'm loving it, Lynet!

[Lynet]

:p Thanks, friends. I want so much to do more now but I've got to go out into the traffic and get my husband's Christmas present. :o Late as always!

[person123]

My parents never get each other presents, and I only get a present for my sister because she gets one for me. :o I'm cheap, yes.

Oh, yeah, almost forgot: I love your story! I hope you know by now that I'll always love your stories and I don't have to post it. ;)

[gyro_kisschasy]

Oh i love your story, it is so... real. The house is fantastic ill have to look out for that one.. i think some of my uni students might move into it once the graduate. I have a few questions

* How did you get the chest hair on your guy
* In one of the thumbnails he is looking into the mirror and you actually see the reflection. When my sims look into mirriors all they see is blue?
* In the last thumbnail you posted (the one of the bedroom) The wallpaper where did you get it, i love it.

Keep writing i cant wait to see what happens with Kate.

Gyro_kisschasy
xxx

[babewithbrains_14]

Your style is so different. It's so real that it's unnerving - sends shivers up my spine. It's just something that makes you want to read on. I need more!

[Lynet]

Oh i love your story, it is so... real. The house is fantastic ill have to look out for that one.. i think some of my uni students might move into it once the graduate. I have a few questions

* How did you get the chest hair on your guyErrol's skin comes from a Sims2 fansite called Helaene. She has lots of very realistic skin colors and makeup.

The house is from the NL EP. Note driveway. I bricked up the garage for the story.

* In one of the thumbnails he is looking into the mirror and you actually see the reflection. When my sims look into mirriors all they see is blue?I think this is a graphics option in your game--mirror reflections. It will be more demanding on your computer to have it set that way.

* In the last thumbnail you posted (the one of the bedroom) The wallpaper where did you get it, i love it.The wallpaper came with one of the EPs. Uni, I think. I didn't download it from anywhere.

Thanks for the compliments. I have two more chapters but no time this morning to load them. :( Tonight for sure.

[surprised_by_witches]

To turn on reflections, click the three little cogs icon on the "save" menu. You should see an option to turn reflections on/off.

Took me a while to find that one. :)

[Lynet]

As soon as I got home from work and got my rusty old heap safely parked in the drive, I phoned Kate at work. I hadn’t done that before because I hadn’t known where she worked until this morning. A Lieutenant! Of all the jobs possible in this universe! I finished punching the numbers on the phone pad and looked out the window at the bright blue sky while I waited for the police station to answer. Someone up there, I thought, is playing with me.

“Downtown District. Cox speaking.”

“Kate, it‘s Errol,” I cleared my throat. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

“Not tonight, Sugar. Too much paperwork here. I’ll be working late.”

“I wanted to celebrate my promotion to Lab Assistant. They gave me a bonus, too, so I’m going to do some more painting around here this weekend. What’s you’re favorite color?”

I heard her laugh at the other end of the line. “Green, Baby, green,“ she said. “The color of grass and trees which are too rare in this city.”

“How about Friday?”

“Sure. I’ll help you paint. And we‘ll spend the weekend celebrating your promotion.” She hung up.

I smiled. Then I went upstairs to the shower. The wind tunnel job was dusty work. But as Lab Assistant I’d be cleaning rat cages. I could handle that.

Before climbing into the shower I took a second to study my face in the mirror. Hmmm. Should have shaved this morning but what for? A wind tunnel? And my eyes were puffy from the dust. What can I say? Nothing here to brag about, but if Kate liked to kiss this face, then that’s all that mattered to me.

[Lynet]

I’ve been in a lot of dangerous situations. I’ve escaped death because of quick wits and more experience than I’ve admitted even to my lawyer. I want everyone to be clear on this. I was good as a cat burglar. I got caught because of a dog but that’s another story I don’t want to go into today. Right now, I just want to say that the reason I sat on my keister and did nothing when the tin man walked out of the closet is because…well…he was shiny.

He walked to the other side of the table and squinted at me.

Then he opened his mouth and spoke gibberish, “Est-ce que vous parlez francais?”

“Huh?”

“anglais?”

“Who the h…” I stood up and moved around the table toward him.

“allemand?”

A word of advice. Don’t punch someone wearing metal. “OW! Blast you, who are you?” I opened and closed my fingers, testing for breaks, then grabbed him by his shiny metal sleeve and pulled him toward the door. He slipped free of my grasp and we got to sparring for a few minutes. I was cautious, aiming for his chin, which was the only part completely free of metal. After a few minutes of dodging his chain link knuckles I was winded. So was he. We sat down at the table, panting.

“Where did you come from,” I said, not expecting an answer.

“What language is this you speak?” he said suddenly. “I have never heard the like before tonight. Is this Toulouse?”

“Is what too loose?”

“This town! Is this Toulouse?”

“Not for me, certainly.”

“I offer regrets,” he said, standing up. “I am for somewhere else.” He walked into the closet and dropped through its floor as if it were water and he was a stone. I got up, went out to my car and drove to the nearest bar for a shot of the hard stuff. It was the first drink of the day. I swear on my mother’s urn.

[gyro_kisschasy]

is the tin man guy a dream, or is it like some stalker that comes into his bedroom, im confused. Lol great story, keep writing cant wait for the next chapter. I want to wrtie a story but i have no ideas

xxx

[suitemichelle]

that's quite a basement the house has;) ;)

[PlayLives]

oh, the Tin Man, the "one in the basement" is a ghost. Right?

[surprised_by_witches]

OMG I'm laughing so hard I can't stop. This is priceless.

Well, he was shiny.

Don't punch someone wearing metal.

I think I hurt myself.

[Lynet]

“Who sold you that green paint?”

I was showing Kate the corner wall on the first floor where I had started painting. “I got it at the DIY Store down the road. It’s grass.”

“I’ll say!”

“I took some of the grass from behind the house to the store. They mixed up the paint to match.”

“Where the sewer line is buried?”

“Yup. Are you hungry yet? Let me get cleaned up and I‘ll take you out.” I had a new suit for the night. It had stripes, and I agree with the guy who sold it to me. I looked good in it. The smile on her face when she saw me was worth every one of the 200 I had paid for it.

I took her to Speedy’s and ordered pork chops for us. We flirted, we teased, we had a good time over dinner. Then I pulled her to her feet for a little slow dancing to the oldie tune on the juke box. Her eyes were bright. Her arms were warm and her lips were hot. No time like the present, I thought to myself when the song ended. I dropped to one knee like I’d seen in the movies.

After that, it didn’t go like the movies.

She put her hand to her chest then shook her head and looked around the room. “It’s a bowling alley, Lover! You could have taken me to Rodney’s place, at least.”

I stood up and shoved the ring into my pocket. “Speedy’s pork chops are an inch and a half thick. Rodney’s are half-inch shoe leather. You like green.” I waved at the bright green and pink colors of Speedy’s place. Pink I don’t need but was willing to overlook that color because I liked the food and the atmosphere. From the tables you can see the action on the lanes. It’s a great place. “You’ve always liked coming here.”

“I like to bowl. Let’s bowl a game.”

She walked over and grabbed a lane that had just opened up. After a few deep breaths, I shrugged off the disappointment and joined her. I didn’t do as well as I usually do. Her score left mine in the dust and to celebrate she smooched me on the spot. This is nice, I thought, feeling better. Then she straightened my collar and tie and said, “Ask me again, you poor sap.”

I blinked. Well, OK, more dust on my knees. I went through the whole routine again and this time she said yes and threw herself into my arms.

So that’s the problem with doing things you see in the movies. They skip important details. She has to beat you at bowling first, although chess might have worked that way, too. She always beats me at chess. And yeah, I really do want to spend the rest of my life with this woman.

[babewithbrains_14]

Awwwh!

[Lynet]

Back at the house the action heated up. Later, in the quiet with the lights off, she said, “You never call me anything except Kate. How about Honey, or Darling, or Snookums, or some other term of endearment?”

“I don’t want to jinx us. Happens every time I start calling a woman something like that.”

“So pick a name and I’ll let you know if it’s a jinx.”

“Petunia.”

She sniffed, “Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Hot lips.”

“Stick to Petunia.”

“Come here, my little Petunia.”

The next day my hot little flower--I don’t call her this out loud--moved her stuff into the house. She insisted on using her savings account to buy some more furniture, get some repairs done on the house, and get us a new truck in exchange for the rusty bomb I’d been driving.

My life would have been perfect if it were not for the nut who lived in the basement. And yes, he was still there.

[gyro_kisschasy]

another winner!! By Lynet:)

[Lynet]

He’d gotten rid of the armor. Now he was all in red. With white sox and white hair.

I was shoving oatmeal into my face when I felt the draft and looked up to see him standing there, a big stupid smile on his face. Slowly I rose to my fee and rubbed my knuckles, thinking I might have the upper hand now. Kate muttered, “Camera.”

“Good morning, Sir,” The man in red said.

I leaned forward, “I want you out of my house. Permanently.”

“There is a problem with my equipment. I am repairing it, Sir.”

“You have a name?”

“Iven Harcourt, Sir, is my name.”

“Harcourt, I want you out of my house. I don’t know where you came from. I don’t like having you wandering around here day and night. Get your metal together and get out.”

“I regret, Sir, that I cannot leave. My equipment is here and I cannot move it.”

“The name’s Waring, not Sir. And Waring is the name on the deed to this house. One way or another you will leave.” Maybe I looked like what I was thinking. He moved to the closet. “Not this time, buster,” I said and grabbed for him.

I got thin air, lost my balance, stumbled forward, and found myself falling. The floor was gone. Then it came back and hit me in the face.

“You will need practice with my large body pneumatique. The force fields require a light touch, Sir.”

I wasn’t listening because when I climbed to my feet I realized that I was in the basement at last. Whoa, will you look at all this junk! Harcourt was nearby, shaking some small gadget. I saw two of him! And someone else at the far end! No, wait, that’s me. I realized I was looking at a giant mirror stretching from one side to the other across the far wall of the basement.

I moved closer to have a look at it. Harcourt came forward and said, “Do not touch this.”

What would you do? I reached out to touch it. My hand disappeared through the mirror as if it were water. I yanked it back. “HEY! What kind of mirror is this?”

“It is not a mirror. It is passage to other places parallel in time to this place. It is not working correctly now and is dangerous to use or to touch. I advise you. Do not touch.”

I stared at his smiling face and decided not to lay him out on the floor. Questions first. “What’s the smell coming from?”

He waved at the mirror. “On the other side of this. I do not know what. Sometimes there are wars and the fields of battle smell very bad. I believe it is something like that.”

I didn’t like the answer to this question. I decided not to ask any more yet. Time to talk it over with Kate and clear my head.

[babewithbrains_14]

How did you get those pictures?

[surprised_by_witches]

Oooh, interestinger and interestinger ... :D

[Lynet]

How did you get those pictures?Are you asking about the mirrors? I think they come with the NL EP. It may be Uni. I'm not sure. But each mirror will cover one wall unit (except for a little bit at the top) and you can actually make a mirrored wall. No special effects otherwise. When Errol put his arm through one of them, that was an unexpected glitch :p which I photographed. He even made a face as if it hurt. Great fun. Perfect for the story.

Obviously, setting your graphics to show reflections is demanding of the computer. I think that may be why his arm went through one of them. My computer was sneezing at the workload from an entire wall of mirrors.

Also, I'll mention here that because the house had no room for a staircase to the basement I used the "elevator" I downloaded and mentioned in an "Elevator" thread some time ago. It behaves exactly as I described it in this story. Sims drop through the floor and appear on the floor below. It's more like a Star Trek high speed matter transmitter than an elevator.

I attach a picture of Errol going to the basement by way of the "elevator" and I had to be quick on the trigger to catch that shot because the descent is very fast.

[suitemichelle]

Way cool Lynet. love the story line. I've started talking to myself because of this story with a certain family I've started playing using a 60's dectective tone storyline, but not for public consumption. anyhow waiting to find out more about the man in red.

[gyro_kisschasy]

Yeah the mirrors are great, ive got some on my wall
im not sure i get the story line about the guy in the red... but oh well

[Lynet]

Kate was not upstairs when I got back. She‘d gone to work. I had wasted time bent over the launch pad in the basement, looking for the trigger. None there. You just put your foot on it and boom, you’re upstairs walking out of the closet. Real impressive. I looked at the stairs to the second floor … no, forget it…what if the power failed.

I picked up the cereal dishes and dropped them in the washer. So, House, I thought, when did you invite the kook to move in? How did he wind up in the basement with all the junk, including that freaky mirror? “And WHY can’t I get any straight ANSWERS” I yelled at the ceiling. Easy, easy, I told myself. Anger management, remember? Breathe deep…count…count.

“Sir Waring,” he said in my ear. I almost had a heart attack on the spot.

“Do NOT,” I said, spinning around and grabbing his collar in my fist, “sneak up on me. WARING! The name is WARING! Nothing else.”

I let go of his collar and he pulled his coat back into shape. “Waring,” he said, “I would be grateful to join you in the afternoon repast.”

I glared at him while I sorted through his comment. “Repast?”

His insides rumbled. His face changed color, getting red. I laughed. The man was hungry. I punched him on the arm, still laughing. “Sure, Harcourt. I’m hungry, too. Oatmeal hardly does it for me. Repast it is.” I grabbed two TV dinners out of the freezer.

“So, Harcourt,” I said as we sat down to eat. “How long have you been here?”

“Time is a relative phenomenon. I have been a long time in many places parallel to this place. The equipment, the room below, is not truly in this house. It is…I can only say…it is a rupture in the continuum.” He chewed some more of the watery green beans. “I am not really here.”

“Is that a fact? So who’s eating into my grocery bill at the moment?”

“I am searching for the answer to that question.”

“Who is searching? The man eating my food who isn’t really here? Harcourt, the woman I‘m soon to marry is a police lieutenant. I bet she‘ll find your description on a list of escapees from the town‘s kook asylum.”

“No, I won’t,” Kate said. She closed the front door, walked over and handed me the newspaper. “I’m not in the police any more.”

I read the Downtown Tattler headline: “POLICE IN BED WITH MUGGERS” Front and center was a picture of me and Kate dancing at Speedy’s.

“What? I’m no mugger!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m out. I resigned.”

“I’m not a mugger. Never was.”

“Calm down, Baby. I knew this would happen. I’m OK with it. I was tired of the work, anyway. You see the worst in people every day. Where’d the Tin Man go?”

“Back to his place somewhere in time, I suppose. I bet we’ll see him at dinnertime. Let’s you and me forget all this and go dancing.”

She smiled and we went out to the truck.

[Lynet]

I woke up in the middle of the night when the house shook. I looked over at Kate. She turned over but didn’t wake up. I got up and went downstairs to look around, found nothing and figured it must have been a truck going down the street. I started back up to bed but stopped when I touched the banister. The vibration was faint but it was real.

Maybe Harcourt was up to something. I should check it out. Holding my breath I stepped into the closet and an eye blink later found myself in the basement.

Harcourt stood up from his chair at the computer and ran over to me. “I believe it may work. Someone I once met told me to reverse the polar alignment. I disagreed with his theories but this time he was correct.”

“The house is shaking.”

“It will settle. Come with me. We will go to the place that causes this smell. But,” he stood back. “You must dress more warmly first.” I was in my shorts, since I’d been in bed. He, on the other hand, was now wearing a fur coat. I decided to humor him and returned in a few minutes wearing my usual flannel shirt and jeans. He started to object, “That is not…”

“I’m warm. Let’s go, Harcourt.”

“Follow me. Do not hesitate. What appears to be a mirror is not really there.” He walked at it as if he believed what he’d just said.

I smiled, caught up with him and expected the two of us to be rubbing bruised noses in front of cracked glass.

I was wrong.

I stood on bare ground in icy air facing a great stone wall and a white moon in the arms of dead trees.

“Good,” Harcourt muttered beside me. “Good.”

[surprised_by_witches]

Ooh, great photos, great story ... I can't wait to find out what happens next!

[suitemichelle]

ditto... love it love it love it

[gyro_kisschasy]

leave us with a cliff hanger :mad:
GREAT STORY :p

[Lynet]

So sorry -- I don't have more chapters ready yet. :o My daughter's been in town and other RL stuff, etc, etc. But I have managed a stolen moment here and there to play the castle family. Since I always give them free will a castle full of 'em is hard to control. Pillow fights, soap in the fountain, books littering the floor. General chaos not suited to the atmosphere I'd hoped for. :boggled:

But today or tomorrow, is my plan. Thanks for checking in and encouraging me. :)

[gyro_kisschasy]

look forward to the new Chapter :)

[Lynet]

I should have expected this. Nothing concerning Harcourt ever added up right. When I looked over at him I saw a smile on his face. You’d think he’d won a prize or something.

“Harcourt, the mirrors are gone. How do we get back?”

“The mirrors phase every twenty-four hours. We should go inside. It is safer there.”

“From what? The only thing out here are dead trees and big rocks.”

“Yes.”

He started walking and I followed until we turned a corner of the stone wall and saw a large door. I reached it before he did and grabbed the huge metal ring but it didn’t budge. So I hit the wood next to it with my fist. Try hitting a concrete wall and see what happens. The wood in that door was just as solid.

Harcourt waited patiently, then said, “There will be a guard at the main gate.”

We walked along the wall. By the time we got to the next door which was two stories high, my teeth were clenched to stop them chattering from the cold.

Maybe there was a guard around. I didn’t see any. But when Harcourt banged the heavy metal ring, the big door groaned and swung open in the hand of an elderly woman. At sight of Harcourt she came out into the cold but stopped when she saw me. We stared at each other.

Harcourt said something to her that I couldn’t follow. Whatever he said it seemed to have done the trick because she took his arm and we went inside. The huge door slammed shut behind us with such force that the floor shook, but big as it was, it didn’t shut out the cold.

Stone floors, stone walls, I was surrounded by cold stone. A handful of candles hung on the walls and lit the way, just barely. I hoped there’d be food. I really hoped it was hot. Yes, it was hot. The bowl warmed my fingers. But it was hardly food, more like watery oatmeal.

As I closed my hands around the bowl and forced myself to swallow the stuff inside it I thought of my house, my bed, my beautiful Kate. I wanted to be there with them.

Maybe I was. I looked at the strange people around the rough-built room, at Harcourt talking to an old man in white, at the old woman, at the guys in armor who showed up for a few minutes, drank the oatmeal, and left.

Very possible, I thought, that this is just a dream. If so, It beats all others I‘ve ever had. Except for the food. I’ve dreamed better food than this.

[Lynet]

I don’t know when it was that I started to understand what they were saying. At first it was just a word here and there. Then I heard Harcourt ask about someone named Alka.

“I have not seen Alka yet this night. Is she well?”

The old woman stared at him. She was annoyed. I could tell. “Alka’s gone,” she snapped. “We do not know where she is…alive or dead. We do not mention her name here.”

Harcourt’s eyes sunk into his head and his shoulders drooped inside the heavy fur coat. That’s when I realized that I was understanding the words. I’d followed the whole exchange and I’d learned something about Harcourt. He was in love.

I didn’t trust myself yet to use, with my own mouth, the words I understood. So I kept quiet. But I paid closer attention. I listened to everyone.

The old man, Patryk, was a local chieftain. He had a rival and enemy named Nikodem, another chieftain. They fought a lot. Patryk was old, tired and weakened. The fighting had become more serious and many were dead. The local townspeople had retreated to the castle only to die from disease and starvation. It was the end of them, and everyone knew it. Nikodem had surrounded the castle to starve them out, but had suddenly left, withdrawing to the hills. They did not yet know why. They believed he would return shortly, even stronger, and they argued among themselves about surrender.

The party broke up. The men in armor left to patrol the walls. The old man and Harcourt wandered off together, talking. The old woman looked me up and down and started talking, “Iven always travels alone. It is strange that he brings someone here.”

“Harcourt does lots of strange things.”

She laughed, then said, “It surprises you? My laughing?”

“Not as much as Harcourt in love surprises me. I can’t believe he sat still long enough.” I thought she’d cut me off and walk away, but I’d been careful not to say the offending name. She didn’t turn her back on me. She just looked sad.

“I will tell you,” she said, “about Alka.”

[Lynet]

The old woman called herself Halina, and as I followed her around the castle halls, watching her snuff out the candles one by one, she told me about the woman Harcourt loved.

“A young woman appeared one day at the gate of the castle. She had no memory of anything, or at least of anything she could put a name to. Behind her, high in the sky, was the moon, stars, and dark mountains. In front of her was the castle.

The guard brought her to me and I was suspicious at first, but she was young and eager to please. I put her to work, cleaning and cooking. The girl’s eyes were huge and dark in color, but not as dark as her hair which was as black as the night can be when clouds cover the moon. She was beautiful.” The old woman stopped walking for a moment and looked at me sideways. “Every man here was in love with her. Any man would be.”

“Did she love Harcourt?”

“Iven is not in this story yet. First, there is Drake. Drake is my son and even I, his mother, have to admit he is…was…not as fast or as clever as his brothers.

Drake, like all the others, loved Alka. Unlike the others, Alka encouraged him. She read to him, sat with him, looked for opportunities to touch him. I did not like this. I knew nothing of her family, where she was from, nothing at all. I resolved to speak to her, even to send her away if necessary, but fate moved faster than I did.

We were attacked. Nikodem surrounded the castle and catapulted burning pitch into our midst. Drake was caught on the walls and burned alive. Alka ran to where he burned and confronted the reaper himself but it was too late. She wept for days. We all did. She begged me to bring him back from the dead. I resisted because we are so poor but finally, in the face of her tears, relented. She helped me with the ritual.”

Halina turned and faced me squarely. “It is not good, sometimes, to bring back the dead, when their suffering was great. And when the reaper is greedy.

Alka tried to help him, my poor son, Drake. But he is not himself, as he was, and he pushed her away.

So it was, one day, as she brought water from the fountain, that she encountered our friend Iven. He helped her with the water. Like all the others he was attracted to her and he stayed with us far longer than he ever had before. He was soon in love. What she felt for him I do not know. Love or kindness?” Halina shrugged.

“Iven left at last, if reluctantly. Alka continued caring for Drake as much as he would allow. He blames her for his fate and fought with her every day. Then one morning she was gone. Not in her room, not anywhere in the castle. She left everything behind except the clothes she was wearing the night before. There is no trace, no word. I do not allow mention of her because of Drake. In his way, he grieves.”

She opened a door and waved at the room beyond. “Sleep here.”

The room was dark, the bed was lumpy and the night was cold. I was a long time getting to sleep.

[gyro_kisschasy]

Interesting addition :rolleyes:

[surprised_by_witches]

Clearly, I need to order that better video card ... amazing pictures, Lynet.

This story is fabulous. So much detail, so full of suffering and loss ... and I hope Errol gets back to his Kate. I hope this adventure isn't dooming him too ...

I can't wait to read more.

[DuzzyGirl]

You guys have all sucked me right in. I've become more concerned with all your stories than my own!

Keep it up! ;)

[Lynet]

Clearly, I need to order that better video card ... amazing pictures, Lynet.Thanks :) . Besides the video card I also have the Kodak software that came with my digital camera. It allows me to do some fairly easy editing to adjust tint or contrast which is often necessary for the pictures taken at night in Simland. There's not much light and things are hard to see.

As for dramatic pictures...there are more in the works. In Harcourt's quest to find Alka, he and Errol will have more adventures in other places.

The two attached pictures aren't part of the story. I was just taking pictures of the mountains around the castle. Pretty cool. I used the rocks and plants available in the neighborhood screen and took the pictures using free camera mode in the neighborhood screen because the taller mountains in the back would not otherwise be visible from within the castle lot.

The neighborhood is a new landscape, different from my Baltimore neighborhood and I used the "cement" option rather than the "arid" or "lush." Certainly makes it look desolate.

[Lynet]

I woke up because I was too cold to sleep any longer, thinking I was back in the can and wondering which of us had driven the warden to turn off the heat again. Busby. Had to have been Busby. Stupid troublemaker. I got up off the damp mattress, straightened my stiff joints and looked in the direction of the window. Diamond shaped, smeary panes of glass. What the h…?

Am I dreaming? I hope I’m dreaming. I put my hand on the window. Nope, I’m not dreaming. I remembered about the unheated castle and a nut called Harcourt. It was time to find him and tell him I wanted to get back to Kate.

My little stone room opened on a larger stone room with two more beds in it. There were stairs, too. I followed them down to the hall with the big gate which was securely barred. Another smaller door led to a very large walled yard open to the sky. I could see a couple of guys standing on top of the walls, looking out on whatever lay beyond. Probably very little of interest.

Then I saw a real ugly man looking mad enough to punch Harcourt’s lights out. I grabbed Harcourt by the arm and pulled him away to safety.

“I want to go home,“ I told him, “back to Kate. She must think I’ve run out on her.”

“As I said, the mirrors phase in 24 hours. We must wait until tonight.”

I sighed and shivered at the same time. Oh, yeah. He did say that. I’d forgotten. Then I noticed he wasn’t wearing the fur coat. He was dressed in a clown suit. “So where’s the fur coat. If you don’t need it, I do.”

“In the garderobe. That is a small room in the wall off the sleeping quarters upstairs. It is also the toilet, and drains outside the walls. You will find all my clothes hanging there. Please change yourself to them and hang your own there to air out, as I see that yours are very damp.”

“Everything here is damp. Damp and cold.”

I left him standing by a game of chess between a heavily armored soldier and the frail old man who ruled over them all.

I found the toilet room in the stone wall of the castle and gagged on the stench. Leave my favorite flannel shirt in that stink? Not on your life. I changed quickly into Harcourt’s dry, if smelly, clothes and left mine spread on my cot. Then I wandered down to the dining hall, stomach growling.

Three soldiers had gathered for their morning ration of gruel. I sat down with them, next to Harcourt. He was talking to them. “It is possible,” he said,” that you can be deceived by your own senses. When it is night, and all the candles are put out, what color is the table? Is it the same color as it is when lit by the afternoon sun? How do you know?”

I said, “Shut up, Harcourt. They‘re sharing their food with us and there is not much of it here to share. Say ‘Thank you kindly.’ That‘s all.”

He looked thoughtful but kept quiet until the soldiers had left the room. Then he said, “They will all die tonight.”

[Lynet]

“How do you know that?”

“I was here before, after the battle. This castle is rubble then and there is no one left alive. I came this time to bring Alka away, but she is already gone.”

“Hold it. Hold it. Are we talking time travel here? Is that what you’re saying?”

He didn’t answer at first. Then, “Yes. Time bends. My equipment is well constructed and accurate to within a few months.” He noticed my face. “That is the outside limit,” he said quickly.

I could only groan, thinking of Kate. “You said these places were parallel, not the same place at different times. Which is it?”

“There are many, many worlds. Here, this castle and these people never were and never will be part of your history. But time bends everywhere in every world.”

I avoided Harcourt for the rest of the day to make it easier for me not to wring his neck. I tried to strike up a conversation with the ugly man but all he wanted to do was pick a fight. All the other guys were too busy repairing weak spots in the wall and gathering whatever they thought would do the most harm when dumped on someone’s head outside the wall. The sun set, the moon rose, and I retreated to the kitchen to warm my hands over the flames in a small fireplace. Then I heard people shouting.

Harcourt appeared briefly at my side, “Nikodem is back and he is mounting siege. Meet me at the smaller gate to the rear of the court. The mirrors will phase in 1 hour.

A lot can happen in 1 hour. I huddled behind a column near the back gate as pots of burning tar and pitch were flung onto the castle walls and into the courtyard. Soldiers scrambled to smother the fires. I heard the horrendous boom…boom…boom of something battering at the larger gate. It stopped as men on the walls poured fire and stones on the heads of those below who worked the ram. But it was not stopped for long. The booming resumed and the fires spread.

Harcourt was suddenly beside me. “Now,” he said. One of the soldiers opened the small gate and shut it behind us. We ran past a burning catapult and two soldiers too absorbed in their own fight to notice us. I saw the mirrors ahead. I ran. Then I stopped for a moment in front of them and looked back at the burning castle.

“We can’t,” I said, “run from this battle.” Like rats, I was thinking.

“Kate looks for you. Nor will I leave Alka anywhere alone. I must find her.”

He stepped to the mirror. I jumped after him.

The dark night with the noise and smell of death and fire disappeared. I closed my eyes against the sun in my face and heard birds and children. I opened my eyes and looked around.

“I know this place,” I said. I looked at the woman crossing the street nearby. “And I know that woman. I‘m going to be sick. We have to leave now. Where are the mirrors?”

“They phase in …”

“Twenty-four hours. So you said. Not good enough. Get me out of here, Harcourt! Now, Harcourt!”

“This is not your village? Where Kate lives?”

“NO! I live downtown from Strangetown. This is Pleasantview and that woman walking down the street over there is…” I choked on the word.

“Who?” he stared after her curiously.

“It's my Mom.”

[surprised_by_witches]

Hey, no fair, leaving me hanging. I just stopped by to see what was new ... wow. Great story, great pictures, great cliffhanger ... Who's his mom? Is he going to get back to Kate? ...

Aaugh.

[Lynet]

The reason he's upset about seeing his Mom is because she's dead, or should be. He refers to her briefly "if she were alive today" in paragraph 1 of post #1 and "I swear on my mother's urn" in post #26. Not that I expect anyone to have this stuff memorized. That's why I'm explaining it now. :o

Poor Kate is just going to have to wait a little longer.

And I really love cliffhangers. However, I'm going to try to be faster with the updates now since my daughter has gone back to California and the holidays are over.

[surprised_by_witches]

Ah, sorry. I forgot about that. Guess I need to reread this again ...

Oh, goody. More!

[Lynet]

He smiled, “We can visit and get food.”

I closed both fists in the cloth of his shirt and pulled him close, so he’d not miss a single word. “No, we are not going anywhere near her. Is that clear?” He nodded. I shoved him away from me. Back at my house, on a bookshelf, was an urn holding the ashes of my mother. She’d died when I was 9 years old.

But I had known her immediately when she walked past me and crossed the street. There was no mistake. I was not confused. And there is nothing wrong with my eyesight.

I squinted after the woman in the distance. She turned a corner and disappeared. Then I noticed that the late afternoon sun was hot and remembered I was wearing a fur coat. Harcourt was wearing something I cannot explain. It was red and purple. I said, “We need clothes. Do we have any money?”

“No.”

“We can sell the fur coat.”

It was, in fact, a trade. The store manager was fascinated with the fur, asking questions like what animal did it come from. Harcourt told him it was mink. The store manager didn‘t seem to care that the information came from a man dressed in a red and purple clown suit. Neither did I. We left the store wearing the latest Pleasantview fashion. A couple hundred in crisp new simoleons also bulged in my pocket, part of the deal.

“Supper time,” I said. There was a small restaurant on the second floor of the clothing shop. It served everything. Seated with a plate of lobster in front of me, I did not feel much like talking for awhile. Neither did Harcourt. We both ate like pigs.

With that done and a big mug of coffee in my hand I leaned back in the chair. “Time for explanations,” I said. “Tell me why we’re here and not in Strangetown.”

“You were thinking of this place as we went into the mirror. That is why we are here.”

“I was thinking of Kate. Don‘t go cross-eyed on me! I was thinking of Kate! And what does what I‘m thinking about have to do with anything anyway? What were you thinking about? Stop! Forget I asked that. Explain the mirrors and use ordinary everyday words and sentences that I can understand.”

After a moment of quiet, he said, “There is a woman named Marta Dekownik who made her living with the selling of potions and divining.”

“Fortunetelling?”

“Yes. I made her acquaintance while traveling in Aponivi and was immediately curious of her crystal ball. She was indeed able to see my history as a child, though we had never met before. I concluded that either she was very good at her craft, or that her crystal ball was very good in revealing these things to her. I decided it was the crystal and resolved to have it for myself.” He sniffed, “At first she resisted any attempt to buy it. Then I persuaded her to move into my apartment, to accept all I owned and the sum of 2 million simoleons, everything in exchange for the crystal. With these things she would be comfortable for the rest of her days.” He paused, “There is coffee on your face, from your nose.”

I fought for breath, snorting coffee. “2 million smackers?!”

“Yes.”

“Got any left?”

“No. I had the crystal. I will not explain the details of my accumulation of the necessary equipment. It took much time. In the end I succeeded in producing the heat required to melt the crystal. The resulting liquid I used to cover the surface of an alloy of my own invention, producing the mirrors you have seen. The material is extremely sensitive to the electromagnetic activity peculiar to the brain.”

“So the mirrors read minds?”

“Yes. And yours, I am thinking, is easier to read than mine. Perhaps simpler.”

With effort I did not react to that comment. Instead, I waved at the waitress to bring another round of coffee. “OK, it sort of makes sense, but I don’t imagine that the old lady who had the crystal ball was climbing inside it.”

“No. That feature surprised me. It was not the intent of my experiment to participate in history, only to observe it more clearly and without the distortion of a spherical transmitter.” He rubbed his chin. “I fell in, by misstep.”

“And met Alka?”

“Yes. I have talked. It is for you now to tell me the story of your Mom.”

[DuzzyGirl]

Falling in and out of mirrors!

I started reading a story yesterday about someone being trapped in a mirror and only coming out in moonlight. While I was reading I was thinking of your Errol and Harcourt.

[Kristalrose]

Geeze!!! Wow!!! Brilliant!!!! Lynet, this is wonderful. Very creative, and wonderful pictures!!! Lovin it. I can't work for reading stories today. LOL

[Lynet]

“Whatever happened to my mother is none of your business.”

“It is the reason we are here.”

“I was thinking of Kate when we stepped through the mirror.”

“How did your mother die?”

“I don’t know. I was at school. I‘m not discussing this anymore. They want to close this place so we have to find a bar that’s open all night. I need something besides coffee to drink while we wait for the mirrors to come back.”

“Sleep,” he yawned. “We need to lie down.”

“There are benches in the park across the road. Let’s go.” I paid the waiter for the meal with extra for keeping him late. My plan was to leave Harcourt on a park bench and go find a bar.

Deep inside the park, away from the street, I found him a bench. Harcourt had been quiet as we walked and I thought he’d just go to sleep. I should have known him better by now.

“Was it a fire?” he said.

“Drop it, Harcourt. I’ll be back shortly. Get some sleep.” I started to leave but he stepped in front of me.

“The mirrors will not let you through until the reason we are here is resolved.”

“Oh, yes they will! I have to get back to Kate. She’s thinking I’ve abandoned her. I don’t want her thinking that. If not the mirrors then I‘ll walk from here to Strangetown!”

“And you will find the child named Kate who will one day be wife to a man named Errol. But it is not the Errol that you are.”

“I need a drink and I need to get away from you. Sit down! Or lie down! I don’t care! But stay here. I’ll be back.” I almost hit him. Instead I walked away.

Down Main Street I found the community swimming pool still open although there was nobody there except a clerk and a bartender. It was the bar my Granddad always hung around. This entire business, this trip to my past, was giving me a serious case of the shakes. I ordered a drink and took it to a chair near the diving board. From there I had a pretty clear view of the house across the road: 225 Main Street. It was my Granddad’s house, where I’d grown up and learned the burglar’s trade. I swallowed my drink and tried to calm down.

[Lynet]

Geeze!!! Wow!!! Brilliant!!!! Lynet, this is wonderful. Very creative, and wonderful pictures!!! Lovin it. I can't work for reading stories today. LOLThanks, Kristal. Whew! I've been wondering if my story was just a little too kooky to keep people interested. But I'll keep at it. :o With Errol and Harcourt traveling around like this I've found myself exploring neighborhoods I'd ignored up to now. Sort of time consuming. Actually I've been downloading some interesting outfits for people in future chapters of the story. The armor gave me the idea. But I can't divulge more until I figure out how exactly I'm going to do it. :rolleyes:

[person123]

It's fantastic! Adding things that aren't really in the game just makes it more interesting. :p

[surprised_by_witches]

I've been wondering if my story was just a little too kooky to keep people interested.

No such thing! At least not as far as I'm concerned ... :p

But I'll keep at it. :o

Yeah!

I can't divulge more until I figure out how exactly I'm going to do it. :rolleyes:

I can't wait to read all about it! I really love this story. You are so inventive!

[Lynet]

Thanks, you guys. :)

Adding things that aren't really in the game just makes it more interesting.I thought about this for a little while today, Person123. But then I decided that I'm using some major functions of this game that are part of its popularity. For example, Body Shop allows us to create a Sim that can be imported to the game and duplicated many times. The same Sim can appear in different times and different places over and over again (not to mention uploaded and duplicated around the human world)--anyway, the Sim version of time travel. The game also provides the means to create many different lands to visit! How many neighborhoods do you have? :p How many castles have you built?

Game players all over the world have been creating fantastic clothes and costumes. Beautiful stuff. Imaginative stuff. Period customes. Fantasy costumes. Wow, can any Sim be satisfied with just one outfit? And a quiet life in Pleasantville?

Finally, what makes the Sim world go round? Love, of course. I haven't forgotten that either.

Conclusion, I'm not really addiing much at all. Errol and Harcourt are just exploring certain idiosyncracies of the game and taking advantage of them. :D And I'm having one whale of a good time, too.

[surprised_by_witches]

I like that you've come up with a plot that doesn't revolve around love, though. Love is what drives them, of course, but it's not why they're skipping around in time.

Very inventive. It's hard to do non soap-opera plots in the Sims, as everything usually revolves around their social lives.

So, kudos to you.

Not that I don't enjoy reading (or writing) soap operas. Just really enjoying your story!

[Lynet]

I love your Saga, SBW, and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading everyone else's love stories in the Worldsims forum, too. Mirelly's beats all for atmosphere. I tried reading the stories in another forum that I won't name and *yawn* couldn't get beyond the first couple of boring posts although the pictures were extremely good in a lot of them. We have really outstanding writers here at Worldsims.

But, no question, my primary focus with Errol and Harcourt is the adventure and not the love.

With my husband at work tomorrow (tax accountant) I'm planning on a day of simming. :D Fingers crossed. :bandit: Hope the poor wretch doesn't leave work early. :p Shhhh, please don't tell him I said that.

[suitemichelle]

If we were only interested in woohoo we'd all be playing the playboy mansion but you, and sbw and kristal just show the unlimited possibilities of game play, when we direct the story instead of letting the sim direct us. keep it up everyone you are all greatly appreciated by me.

[person123]

I'm hoping to have about 5 straight hours of simming tomorrow and Sunday since we have Monday off. Why don't I do my homework tomorrow (hafta do Chinese homework today....don't ask why I'm not doing it right now) instead of Monday? Because I find that I have to do some school stuff the day before school starts again, or else the next day I sorta feel...surreal. Like, I'm not really supposed to be at school. Homework brings me back to real life. :o

[Lynet]

It was daybreak when I finished my last drink, stumbled out to the street, took one final look at the house, and headed for the park. With hands shoved hard in my jacket pockets and chin almost touching my chest I didn’t notice the old guy who followed me.

Harcourt sat up on the bench. “Who is this you have brought with you?”

“Who is who?”

“Him.”

I turned around as the old guy came right up to my face and poked his finger into my chest. “What for,” he snarled, “are you watching my house. All NIGHT! All night you watch my house and I watch you watch my house. Who are you?”

I scratched at my jacket where he’d stabbed me with his finger. “It’s a real nice house. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Now go home.”

Sure, I knew who I was facing here. It was Granddad as I remembered him. Always picking fights with people for no reason. He was about to shove me into the pond, “Not a good answer, you bum.” he said. “Don’t be fooled by my little bit of white hair. I can break your …”

I interrupted him, “I’m Emil. Chester’s son. Don’t I look like him?”

That stopped him cold. He stared hard at me and mumbled, “So, how’s Chester?”

“I’ve no idea. Haven’t seen him in years. I’ve been in the clink.”

This last confession made him smile. “The clink? Which one? I’m familiar with a couple of them myself.”

“Athelston. It‘s a pigsty. You know it?”

“Very well,” he snickered. “Very well, I do. And how‘s my buddy, Woolsey?”

“The Warden‘s your buddy?” I’d heard plenty about Woolsey from Granddad when I was a kid. Woolsey, of course, had retired by the time I got there as an adult.

“Eventually.” Then he waved in the direction of Harcourt, “Who’s this?”

“Just met him on the road. Harcourt’s OK.”

“So you like the house? Come back and let me show you the inside. We’ll have breakfast and talk about everybody we know who’s still up at Athelston. You must’ve met Jarvis. He ruled the place.” Granddad had a strong grip on my arm as he pulled me toward the road. I remembered that big fist of his from my years under his roof. He’d never been easy to live with.

Harcourt followed along without saying a word.

[Lynet]

No, I did not want to go into that house. I thought of excuses but said nothing, just let Granddad quiz me about Athelston. It was a test and I seemed to have passed. As we neared the fence around the house, though, I stopped walking.


“What’s the matter, Emil? Are you going to say no to my hospitality? Why do you stop here?” Hospitality had always been real big with Granddad. To refuse him now would raise a ruckus for sure. But have you ever desperately desired something and been terrified of it at the same time? Yes? No? Make no mistake, it’s a real bad experience.


“Sir,” Harcourt said suddenly from behind us. “We are very welcome of your hospitality. Breakfast will be much favored. Emil is merely weary from travels.”


With one of them on each side of me I was pulled into the house by the elbows. Granddad further shoved us into the living room while he put breakfast together.


And there I came face to face with my dead mother. Except she was not dead, but very much breathing and smiling at us. “Oh, my,” she said. “Who has Dad brought home this morning?”


Harcourt sensed I was in a bad way. “I am Iven Harcourt, My Lady Waring,” he said smoothly, and bowed over her hand, kissing it. She blushed. “And this,” he pulled me forward, “is my friend Emil.”


Mom held out her hands to me. I touched the warm palms gingerly then took her by surprise when I suddenly threw my arms around her. Harcourt sunk his fingers painfully into my shoulder and I let her go. “Emil,” he said to her, “is very hungry and very tired and extremely regrets these liberties with your kind hospitality. Please forgive us our intrusions.” She smiled weakly and seemed only a little flustered by it all.

Fortunately, Granddad yelled out at that moment from the kitchen. Pancakes.

[Lynet]

Granddad sat across from me at the long kitchen table, eating hearty, talking with his mouth spilling food.

“Viola,” he shouted, though she sat next to him, “where’s Errol? Still in bed?”

“No, no. He’s playing with the telescope out back. He’ll be here in a minute.”

This was too much. I stood up. “I’ve some business to take care of. See you.” I headed for the front door and almost trampled the kid. He made a face, curling his lip at the clumsy stranger. It was worse than seeing a ghost.

I bolted, ran across the road, past the swimming pool, to the bar. Ten minutes later someone sat down on the next barstool. Granddad. He ordered a drink and nursed it for a moment. “So how’s Chester?” he said.

“I can’t say.”

“No. You sure can’t. Since there’s no such person.”

“Yes there is. You talked about him all the time! Your brother, Chester. In Strangetown. It’s all I heard about …” I’d said too much. I waved at the bartender and held up my glass. “Strong stuff, this. Goes right to my head and makes me crazy.”

“Me, too,” he nodded. “And I make mistakes, like bringing the wrong sort home to meet my daughter.”

I held up my hands. “I’m not going anywhere near her or that house again. I swear on my mother’s…uh…eh…”

“I’m not talking about you.”

“Harcourt’s harmless. He’s madly in love with Alka.”

‘Who’s Alka?”

“A fantasy.”

“I’m talking about Don Lothario. He’s after every woman in town. He’s engaged to Goth’s daughter but that doesn’t stop him from fooling around and he’s been fooling around with Viola. I saw him practically break her back with his smooching her in my own front yard the other night.”

We commiserated in silence for a few minutes, then he shifted on his stool. “Something funny about you and Harcourt. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be leaving later today.”

“Where’d you hear that nonsense about Chester? Viola’s boy, Errol, is the only one I’ve ever spun that yarn to.”

“Heard it in Athelston. You must have talked in your sleep while you were there.”

“Possible. Snoring’s more like it.” He slid off the stool. “Got to get back to the house. If you happen to see Lothario around here, give him a black eye for me.”

I watched the old man’s proud back as he walked away.

[surprised_by_witches]

Lynet, this is just fantastic. I love the pictures. His mother looks almost like a real person, with those eyes, and his granddad's a hoot. What an amazing, layered story you've got going.

I love him almost running over his own younger self, and all the details you put into this ...

Wow. What a story. So glad you posted!

[Lynet]

Oh, thank you. Thank you, SBW. Really! Getting them through their visit to Pleasantview is more difficult then I thought it would be at first. I was worried about how it would read to others. Looks like they'll be here a little longer than I had planned, too. Just getting decent pictures is harder for some reason which is why there are less of them.

I like Granddad, too. I gave a passing thought to having him travel with Errol and Harcourt but decided it would be more characters (and voices) on the road than I could handle. :p

[jupitershana]

wow! SBW was right now his mother...kind of scary how real she looks. This is by far your best work so far on this site! Such exciting twists in the story, you've got me on the edge of my seat! Keep writting!

[surprised_by_witches]

One question: why would I call you pompous?

I think you're exactly the opposite of pompous ...

Just wondering. :p

[Lynet]

One question: why would I call you pompous?

I think you're exactly the opposite of pompous ...

Just wondering. :p:) Nice to hear that. Sometimes, after I post a long-winded comment and have logged off and gone to bed I start thinking, "Sheesh, you sure do blather on and on with your opinions. Less is more, and all that." :o

I don't worry about that when I'm telling my stories, however. ;) And I've been playing the game most of the day to set up the next couple of episodes. I set my graphics (except for edge smoothing) to the max for pictures. Backed up my game first because it gets a little jerky with the high settings and, one time, the computer even turned itself without warning..just shut right down. :eek:

No time to write now, though. Tomorrow is my plan.

[surprised_by_witches]

I can't wait!

[Lynet]

Harcourt had a large bundle under his arm when we found me later that afternoon. I’d moved up Main Street to a different bar, a sidewalk place near the restaurant and closer to where the mirrors would show up. Where else was I going to go? But I’d stop drinking and made friends with the bartender. It was a slow day for him, the middle of the week. We passed the time sharing bad jokes and stale chips.

“Fresh clothes,” said Harcourt. “These are a gift of Sir Hector Waring who has insisted on further hospitality in these clothes he is no longer able to wear on himself.” The bundle was two suits, two shirts and two ties.

“No underwear?”

Harcourt looked puzzled then nodded, “Ah! The undergarments. Sir Waring made with regrets that all were in great need of sewing. He offered funds so that we could purchase what we needed but I refused because his hospitality has already been generous.”

I couldn’t complain. We made space on the bar and divided up the stuff so that each of us had pants and jacket that matched. We changed in the rest room. The clothes were clearly left over from Granddad’s younger, slimmer days. I helped Harcourt with his tie and ran a comb through my hair. Not bad, I thought, studying myself in the mirror.

The mirrors! It must be time.

“Let’s go,” I pushed Harcourt out of the restroom. “The mirrors are due soon.” I ran down the steps, through the shop and around to the back of the building where we’d first arrived. I saw the mirrors, and Kate was big time on my mind. I called out her name as I ran. Should be no problem, right?

Wrong. I crashed into the mirror and fell backwards. As I lay there on the sidewalk the sun set and the moon rose. I looked up at the stars thinking sad thoughts. Kate, I hope you know I‘m trying to get back.

Harcourt had not run into the mirrors. He leaned close and touched one. His finger went through it. He looked down at me.

“I am able to go,” he said. “You are not. But I still stay until you are ready.”

“I’m ready now,” I mumbled, getting up off the pavement.

“No. Your mother’s story is still a weight on you. We must understand why.”

[Lynet]

The mirrors evaporated like smoke in a strong wind. I looked at Harcourt.

“Twenty-four hours?”

“Yes.”

“Real glad you stayed, Harcourt. I’ll return the favor when I can.”

We walked back around to the front of the building and found Granddad leaning on the bar talking to the bartender. The old man was at home in any bar. This one at the end of Main Street was not his preferred haunt but you’d not guess that from watching him.

“Found you!” he shouted as we settled on two stools next to him.

“Thanks for the suits, Hector,” I said and motioned for a drink. My jaw ached from my leap against the mirror.

“Better you than the trash can, since they’re still in good shape. Just not my shape.” He laughed loud at his own joke. “You look good, you two, like you’ve got class. I’d never know you’d just come out of Athelston.” We all got looks from a couple of Pleasantview citizens strolling past. I discovered that smiling hurt my face. The glass in my hand was cold with ice so I held it up against my jaw. Bad idea to leap headfirst anywhere.

Granddad moved to stand between my stool and Harcourt’s and draped his heavy arms around our shoulders. I’d like your help with something, boys. It’ll get the blood pumping through your ticker. And that’s good exercise.”

“Thanks, Hector, but I’ve been out of the business for too long.”

“What business? What business do you think I’m talking about? Look at Amar here, behind the bar, scrubbing glasses, wondering what business you are talking about. Right, Amar? It’s a mystery, isn’t it, what business my friend, Emil, is talking about. Sure as heck can’t be the business I’m talking about.”

Amar’s eyes were fixed on us. So were Harcourt’s, who had forgotten about the drink in front of him. I decided it was meant for me anyhow, and poured it into mine.

“Amar,” Granddad shouted at the bartender. “Take care of your other customers. I’m treating these boys to supper.”

I managed to gulp the last of my drink and toss a couple of tens at the bartender as Granddad took a hard grip on our elbows and pulled us along to the restaurant upstairs.

I ordered pork chops and was allowed to eat them in peace.

It was over dessert that Granddad told us he wanted to break into Don Lothario’s house and steal everything the man owned.

[Lynet]

“Whatever for? Why put your home and life at risk? What about Viola and your grandson?”

“I went over to Lothario’s house this morning, just to speak my mind on a few things. He was fooling around with the housekeeper and didn’t care that I saw it all. We had words.” I could see the blood rising to the old man’s face. “He’s engaged to Goth’s daughter, Cassandra. I’ve heard he’s been all night at the house down the road where those two girls live. Viola adores the man. Doesn’t matter what I say about him. I am her Dad and my opinion makes no difference to her. She thinks he’s going to break off his engagement with the Goth girl to marry her. No chance of that. He‘s after their money.”

“How will robbing him solve any of this?”

“He has no insurance and no burglar alarm.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“When his stuff is gone what will he do? Where will he go? To Cassandra, of course. Then Viola will see him for what he is.”

“That’s pretty flimsy. He might just camp out at home, or at the neighbor’s house, or even show up at your front door. And what’s Viola going to feel. I’ll tell you what she's going to feel. She’s going to feel a whole lot of sympathy for her lover. Bad idea, start to finish.”

Up to now Harcourt had been silent. “I believe,” he said out of the blue, “it may be an adventure we should try.”

“NO!” I put my coffee mug down hard on the table which caught the attention of some other diners, and the waiter. Granddad shooed him away. “No,” I said through my teeth. But in the end I said yes. Granddad was so determined I knew he’d go without me, and take Harcourt with him. Granddad’s welfare mattered to little Errol. Harcourt’s welfare mattered to big Errol. There was a time when Errol needed only Errol, and a simpler life it was, too.

[surprised_by_witches]

This story just keeps getting better and better.

I laughed out loud at "steal everything the man owned."

You have such a great way of putting things. The last line is just perfect.

I thought I was too tired to read this. I should be in bed, it's 12:30 and my eyes are heavy but it sucked me in and I read it all twice.

Great pictures, too.

And now, to bed.

[Lynet]

Around midnight, deep in the park away from the road, we met Granddad and changed into the clothes he’d brought for us. “You’re kidding!” I said at sight of the striped pullovers. “Anyone who sees us in these shirts will know exactly what we’re up to and call the police.”

“Stop your belly-aching and get dressed. Nobody‘s going to see us.”

I considered just wearing my suit but wanted to keep it clean for happier times, like escaping Pleasantview. I pulled on the knit cap and looked over at Harcourt. His striped shirt was half covered by a black cape he’d found somewhere. I didn’t say anything. There are places in Harcourt’s head where I do not care to go.

We climbed into a pickup truck Granddad had borrowed from a friend and chugged quietly over to the edge of town. Lothario’s house was a paste-colored box in a crowd of them on the edge of town. All the lights were on, inside and out. The place was lit up like opening night at the theater, but ringing the doorbell three or four times did not rouse anyone. A sound sleeper, maybe. Granddad shrugged off the suggestion, “Viola’s out. They’re together somewhere and won’t be back until the sun comes up. That’s been the routine for a while now.”

He broke the bulbs in the spotlights in the yard while I picked the door lock. We started moving stuff quickly around to the side road where it was a little darker and less visible to the neighbors. Couch, chairs, table, stereo, computer, TV, microwave, exercise equipment. Anything we could carry and fit on the truck. Granddad wanted to take the big double bed, too, but I convinced him there was no room for it and we had no time for a return trip.

A couple of hours later we were all filthy with sweat, smelling like pigs, and driving down the road with a precarious heap of cheap furniture piled high in the truck bed. It’s possible the TV and stereo might have been worth something but not enough to risk fencing any of it. We dumped the goods in the river.

Only then, as the last chair sank beneath the muddy current, did my heart slow down to its usual pace. Granddad was grousing that we hadn’t gotten everything, but the caper had laid to rest any and all doubts I’d had about a quiet, crime-free life with Kate.

[MegRen]

I love this story! These last pictures of them stealing from Don Lothario are great! Keep writing!

[jupitershana]

I love this story! These last pictures of them stealing from Don Lothario are great! Keep writing!

DITTO!

[Lynet]

I was right about Granddad’s scheme. In the end it went very bad indeed. You’re thinking we got caught? Got arrested, maybe? No, nothing so simple and straightforward as that.

The following morning started out real quiet, except for Harcourt’s snoring. That was loud. I crawled out of my own bed, got dressed, closed the motel door gently behind me, and walked through the park to Main Street. I figured on getting some breakfast at the sidewalk bar.

“Morning, Amar. You ever sleep?”

“What for? I live to serve,” he grinned.

“Are you serving pancakes this fine morning?”

“You bet. Loaded with butter. Have a seat.”

I took the stool next to a woman with black hair and heavy makeup. She looked up from a big glass of something strong. I could smell it on her. I regretted taking that stool. I was considering a change when Amar set a plate piled high with pancakes down in front of me. They were hot, dripping butter, and real good.

The woman beside me started talking, loudly. A whole lot of foul language. It was unnecessarily graphic and took something away from the enjoyment of my pancakes. She finished her tirade with a name I knew…”and if I ever see that low down piece of slime Lothario again I’ll beat the…”

“Who?”

“Sleazy Don the lecherous Lothario.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard he’s a bum.”

“Wish I’d heard before I got involved with him. It all came out this morning, though, when I heard he’d been robbed. See, I’m police.” she smiled, “I joined the force after quitting my maid job. Name‘s Kaylynn.”

“Mine’s Emil. So he was robbed? Did they catch the thief, yet?”

“No, and I doubt they ever will. It was a professional job.”

I chewed thoughtfully on my lip to prevent the grin of pride. It almost overwhelmed me. Me and Granddad. Professional burglars. Like old times. Then I remembered Kate and stopped feeling proud.

I cleared my throat. “So, it happens now and then, robbery. What happened this morning?”

“I was working out at the pool. Gotta work on the body skills when you’re in the force, when I heard the sirens and saw the patrol cars racing down Main Street. You didn’t hear them? Never mind. Anyway, I had my radio with me, called in to see if I was needed and found out about the robbery. Lothario, my friend and lover, had been burglarized. Maybe he was hurt. I needed to know and raced over there without even changing my clothes.”

“Was he hurt?”

“No. And not only that, his OTHER girlfriends had raced over to see if he was OK, including that witch, Cassandra. Boy, did her rich girl airs come crashing down when she saw her boyfriend in the arms of this chick I didn’t even know about, Viola something or other.”

My heart sank. Granddad, it was not a good scheme.

“Lothario is engaged to Cassandra.”

“Not any more. Sure, I knew about his engagement, but he’d always promised to break it off, now that he’d met me, the love of his life. And I fell for that line, can you believe it?” She lifted her glass. “A toast,” she said, “to the thieves who showed me the real Lothario.”

“And Viola? What happened to her?”

“Last I heard, she and Lothario left town together.”

[surprised_by_witches]

Uh oh, Errol. Rewriting your past, never a good idea ... :eek:

[Lynet]

I paid Amar for the pancakes and headed for the payphone.

“Hector, I just heard something about Viola leaving with Lothario. What does she know about last night?”

“Where are you?”

“The sidewalk bar. You remember Amar?”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

A tired old man showed up a few minutes later and sat down next to me. To Amar’s surprise we got nothing stronger than two mugs of coffee. “She is not my daughter anymore. I disown her.”

“That’s a little drastic. Especially with the kid and all.”

“I’ll tell him she died.”

“Now wait just a minute. You can’t tell a kid his mom’s died when she’s still alive. Besides, he’ll hear about her and Lothario from other people.”

“I’ll tell everybody she’s died. I want nothing to do with her. I told her never to come back. I never want to see here again.”

Is this an over reaction to an elopement? I think so. I told him so.

“Elopement? I don’t care about that! I don’t care who she marries. But steal from me! Steal from her father, the man who gave her life, who raised her from a baby when her mother died…that’s betrayal. She betrayed us and abandoned us. I disown her. I have no daughter. She is dead to me.”

“What did she steal? What could she steal? You told me you didn’t have anything.”

“Did I? I don’t think I did. I think I said Lothario was after the Goth money, which is more than I have…had. No, she cleaned me out, all 250,000.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. “One question, Hector.” I opened my eyes and looked around for Amar. He was at the other end of the bar, talking to Kaylynn. I lowered my voice, “What does she know about last night?”

The old man grimaced and rubbed a hand through his hair until it stuck out in all directions. “I might have let it slip. Most of it. I didn‘t want her following the police sirens over there. She went anyway, real mad.”

“That’s why she took your money.”

“Why she took it from her old man doesn’t matter, only that she did, and then she had the nerve to call me this morning and tell me what she’d done and that she was coming back to take the boy.”

I held my breath, waiting for the rest of it.

Granddad stuck out his jaw, “Over my dead body, I told her. What kind of life is she thinking of for the kid? A life with Lothario as a father? In some other city? No, the boy’s life is here in this town, with his friends, his school, his home and his Granddad. I hung up on her. She knows me. She knows I mean everything I say.” He pushed the coffee cup away and slid off the stool. “I don’t want Errol to know,” he sniffed, “that she robbed us and ran away.” He headed for the road, talking to himself.

I played with my coffee, thinking about an urn full of ashes, wondering about the ashes, then I went to rouse Harcourt.

[Lynet]

We paid the motel bill, and while Harcourt headed for the restaurant for some lunch, I decided to stop by Granddad’s house.

It was later than I thought. School was out, and it was the boy who was me a long time ago who ran out to greet me. I was hardly ready to even shake hands with this creature when he suddenly flung his arms around my neck. I patted his back and fought the urge to shove him away. Obviously, he couldn’t know how thoroughly weird this was.

Granddad was reading the paper, or so it seemed at first. Then I noticed it was upside down. He maintained the pose, however, through my entire visit.

I sat down on the couch. Small Errol sat next to me and we talked for a little while.

“I am very sorry,” I said, “ to hear about your mother.”

“She is happy now. Mom was always not happy. Now she is. Granddad says so.”

“Uh…yes. That‘s good news. I just stopped by to see if you were OK, if you needed anything.”

“A ray gun. I saw one on TV and I want one. Can you get one of those?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Well, OK. Thanks, anyway.” He stood up. “I’m going to call Marsha now. I want to be her friend and I think she wants to be my friend, too.”

I watched him pull a stool over to the phone. I’d forgotten about that girl, Marsha, my first friend. I wondered briefly what she looked like all grown up.

I got up, waved goodbye to the kid who was too young to understand death and to the stubborn old man who would raise me. I would like to have seen my mother once more but I had no idea where she was, and no time to look.

It was almost time for the mirrors again. I went looking for Harcourt. I found him at the bar, talking to Lothario’s ex-girlfriend, Kaylynn. She was happily telling him all the details of the burglary he had helped plan, and he was clearly fascinated by this third-person account of his adventures.

“Time to go, Harcourt.”

“No, I want to hear more about the robbery. Kaylynn believes there was more than one burglar, a whole gang. They might return to break and enter other citizen homes. Kaylynn believes strongly about this.”

“We need to go. Thanks, Amar, and maybe we’ll see you later, Kaylynn.” I sincerely hoped not.

Harcourt and I headed for the street and around the building to where the mirrors should appear. I grinned when I saw them and started running, thinking of Kate. This time, Kate. This time, for sure, I’m coming back. I reached for my image and met it and was through it!

I stumbled in the dark and hit a wall. I slid to the floor. "Harcourt?”

“I am here.”

“Where exactly is here? Where are we?”

“I am not knowing where we are. There is no light.”

“Do I smell fish? I don’t like fish. HEY! The floor moved! The wall moved! The whole blasted room moved!”

“There are stairs here. Move toward my voice.”

When I stood up the floor moved and I fell over. “OUCH! Where are you? I hear water. Why do I hear water? OK. I‘ve got your hand. And the stairs. Let‘s get out of here.”

I followed him up the short flight of metal stairs, through a door and into open air. It was night. There were stars and a moon overhead and water everywhere else.

“Where are we?” I clutched at the door jam as the wood beneath my feet tilted sideways.

“On a boat,” he said. “A very small boat.”

“There are no boats in my basement, Harcourt. You screwed up again.”

[surprised_by_witches]

A boat! How cool.

And he didn't rewrite his history after all ... because it had already happened that way. Time travel is fascinating, isn't it?

What a stubborn old man, and poor little Errol. Don Lothario might not have been that bad of a dad ...

[Lynet]

I decided that since Errol had lost his mother and been raised by his grandfather there were two possibilites -- his mother really did die -- or she left and he was led to believe that she died. Somehow, for me, the second option had more appeal. It just seemed more likely, considering her affair with Lothario, and Granddad's irascible personality. Besides, killing off a kid's mother, even a sim kid's mom, was just more than I could bring myself to do. And, perhaps, Errol may one day stumble across his elderly mother back in Strangetown.

I know, from your experience with romance sims, that Lothario probably would have made a good dad. Maybe, now that I've left Pleasantview behind, I should just move Granddad and little Errol into the city with Viola and Lothario. It's a parallel world, after all. I'm allowed to rewrite history in it. :p

[surprised_by_witches]

I like that. It has a certain cosmic justice to it.

Apparently someone on another site who's into hacks where you can get mega numbers of babies made Don Lothario the father of something like ten toddlers at once, and he didn't do too badly, at least not from what the pictures show. So, one kid shouldn't be too much for him to handle. :D

[Lynet]

You've convinced me, then. Little Errol will get his Mom back and a new dad, too. :D In the parallel universe of Pleasantview, Errol Waring does not grow up as a burglar. It won't change Strangetown Errol's history, though. Because that history led him to Kate.

(For those of you reading this who are not too familiar with sci-fi literature, parallel universes are common. ;))

[person123]

But what about the ashes of his dead mom? Or does his mom really die in the parallel universe of Strangetown? Or...gosh, this is confusing. :rolleyes:

[Lynet]

You're right, Person, it is confusing. :o

I got to joking around with SBW about parallel universes. My intent was that this particular "Parallel" universe was actually his past, which he was able to visit by way of the magic mirrors and see the truth about his mother, that she didn't die after all.

As for the ashes in the urn? Yes indeed, Errol, too, is wondering who or what the ashes belong too. He'll find out, eventually.

[Lynet]

Harcourt ignored my scowling and climbed another set of metal stairs to the top of the miniscule cabin.

I followed him up, more and more horrified by the flimsy structure that carried us. “This is NOT a BOAT!” I yelled at him. “It’s a CRATE! It fell OFF a boat. We’re adrift. And we still have to wait twenty-four hours before the mirrors come back. We’d better pray the weather stays good out here because if it doesn’t then you, me, this crate and those mirrors are going down to the mucky bottom.”

He had no interest in my nervous harangue. He peered into the eyepiece of a telescope up there, looking either at the horizon or the stars, or both. He swung the thing around a good bit. I dodged out of the way, gave up on the useless complaining, and stood staring out over the water. I have never felt so insignificant as I did watching that water heave and roll under our little dinghy. The sky above was just another ocean, equally vast. Me, Harcourt and the boat wannabe added up to nothing.

After a few minutes I left Harcourt alone up there with the useless telescope--after all, what’s there to look at? Water? Sky? I could see all that just fine without a telescope. I wandered down to the lower deck, snickering at myself for even thinking words like ‘cabin’ and deck.’ They hardly applied.

I found someone else was sharing the crate with us. He was almost as ugly as that guy Drake back at the besieged castle. Same kind of skin. And he moaned to himself a lot.

“Eh…hello,” I said. “This your cr…uh…boat?” We stared at each other. Then he grunted something I did not understand and continued eating his bowl of gruel. Just great, I thought. Does every other world except mine live on that watery cereal?

Harcourt came up behind me, “There is warm clothing in the chests up there and I have brought some down for you. The wind is chill and the boat is not heated…” He caught sight of the other guy, shoved a bundle at me, and went forward to introduce himself. I left him to it as I looked at the clothes. Mighty colorful stuff, but the material was definitely a lot heavier than what I had in the suit. I went back up to the roof of the cabin, changed, left my suit in one of the boxes up there and came back down to see if Harcourt had managed to communicate.

The conversation was lively and incomprehensible. At first. Once again I found that the occasional word made sense, then more and more, until I understood it all. Someday I was going to have to ask Harcourt how that worked.

We were not on an ocean. It was just an inland sea. A very big and often stormy sea, although things were quiet at the moment. Jurg, the boatman, was bringing supplies to a fishing village on the island. What island? Oh, that blotch on the horizon. Well, OK, I thought. How? I saw no sails. Mostly the current? But there’s a small engine somewhere which he’s not bothering with now because the weather’s good and the current is doing the work.

I rubbed my hand over my face and looked out over the water. What was that in the waves? I stood up and tried to get a better look.

“Harcourt! Jurg! There’s someone in the water!” Harcourt jumped up but Jurg shrugged.

“Just the sea people. Pests.”

Sea people? I’d never seen anything like it. I watched them, fascinated. Two male and one female, although I was assuming that’s what they were because of the form taken by their upper bodies. Below the waist…well… it was hard to imagine what they did behind closed doors, if you know what I mean.

They jumped around a bit, apparently ignoring us completely, then disappeared beneath the waves.

“Pests,” he repeated. “They’ll be back.”

“Why?”

“I got one in the hold,” he smiled an ugly smile.

[person123]

Ooh, downloaded a mesh for a muscular merman? He reminds me of the King in The Little Mermaid. :rolleyes:

[Lynet]

Muscular was the only way I could find one. Could be others out there. He's so muscular it's embarrassing. :o I'm not a fan of the Schwarzenegger look. I believe in moderation in all things, even muscles.

[babewithbrains_14]

Wow! I actually shouted 'Oh my God!' at the screen, and Mum thought I'd hurt myself. :P

[surprised_by_witches]

I haven't found a merman yet, only the mermaids ... I'll have to look some more. My daughter gets a giggle out of having mermaids on land: they look hilarious using the treadmill.

Back on track: wow. Can't wait to find out what happens next.

And I know it's a bit late but everytime I read the part about Gramps holding the newspaper upside down I laugh. Such great little details in this story ...

[Lynet]

Start with MTS2, sci-fi sims. The merman is actually at another site but I found the link when I looked at the merbaby. I didn't download the baby 'cause then I'd feel an obligation to raise him. :rolleyes: Besides, all this weird stuff I'm putting in my game makes me wonder when it's going to burst into flames and crash. That reminds me. Time to back up again. :p

[Lynet]

“Dead or alive?” I asked him.

“Alive. They can live out of water for a day or two, as long as they’re not in the sun. Their skin’s not suited to the sun as they live deep in the sea.”

“How’d you catch it? They look huge.”

“Bigger’n you or me. The males, anyway. The females are smaller. That’s what I got down there. A female. She got caught in a net. I’m taking her to the villagers on that island. They’ll sell the tail, dried to a powder, for mixing up in medicines. I’ve seen too much of these fish people to believe the tail is a cure for anything, but the landfolk don’t know that,” he winked at me. ”I’ll get real good money for that critter in the hold.”

I was appalled at the whole idea. Even if they were half fish, the other half looked like you and me.

“I’d like to see it up close.”

He nodded and waved at the metal stairs, “Not too close, I warn you. That tail might not look like much but it’s big enough to knock you out and sharp enough to slice you up. So stand way back.”

I moved toward the dark hole that Harcourt and I had climbed out of only a couple of hours earlier, the unlit pit where I’d smelled a strong odor of fish.

“Take a lamp,” Jurg yelled after me. “And don’t listen to the noise it makes. That noise can lure boats onto the rocks and men to their deaths.”

Harcourt handed me a lamp as I hesitated at the top of the steps. “Coming with me?” I asked him.

He shook his head and glanced up toward the telescope. His obsession was somewhere else.

Watch out for the tail. Watch out for the tail. Each word for each step as I went down. I held up the lamp and looked around. The boat was small and the hold was a lot smaller. I saw something bright and damp move under the steps and I raised the lamp higher.

Skin as white as fresh snow. Hair like silver. She was the most beautiful thing I‘d ever seen. And she was headed for a cruel death. “Do you know?” I whispered, moving closer, “what they will do?”

She made no sound, but smiled and rose up on the end of her tail, unsteady, swaying. Without thinking I set the lamp aside and reached for her to keep her from falling. A warm body in my arms, warm breath on my face. I guess I expected her to be as cold and unpleasant to touch as a fish. I was so wrong.

“Not you,” I said softly. “Not this time. We must hurry. I hear his boots on the steps to the cabin roof.” Please, Harcourt, I thought, keep him busy.

I carried her up to the deck. With only one glance around us I started to heave her over the rail to the water. She suddenly twisted in my arms, resisting me.

“No, no,” I whispered. “Go now. Quickly.” But I misunderstood her intent and in the next instant found her lips pressed hot on mine. Then she was gone with hardly a noise made as she dove into the waves. I stared at the water sliding past the hull and touched my fingers to my lips. Wow, I thought. Should I tell Kate about that?

In the next moment a powerful blow to my back knocked me to my knees. It was followed immediately by a kick to the head that knocked me out. But just before that foul smelling boot hit my skull I heard him say, “So I sells you instead.”

[Lynet]

Just a couple more pictures which weren't useful for the story. I'm sort of fascinated with the fish tails. Obviously, they're in a swimming pool. Well, except for the one flying through the air which is a funny story involving the somewhat dangerous move objects cheat wherein I had to exit the game without saving. :o I'll have to start another thread on that one. :p

In three of these pictures they were swimming at night with no pool lights and I experimented with the color a little to darken the water even more.

[surprised_by_witches]

So cool ... and he did the right thing. Can't wait to hear how he gets out of this one!

[DuzzyGirl]

I can't either. I keep wondering what the heck is Kate thinking. He's been gone now for four days or he's in his fourth day away?

[Ruthie_Faye]

Well since he's time travelling I would think she would be unaware of how long he's been gone. It would seem to her as though he'd stepped out of the room and right back. But I guess that would depend on just where in time he returns.

Ruth

[Kristalrose]

Wow!!!!!! Lynet, very, very cool!!! The pictures and the story are absolutely gorgeous. I keep looking at the pictures and, knowing full well the limitations of the TS2 game, wondering, "How's she do that!!!!!!" Awsome, awsome, awsome!! :D

[Sacharissa]

Amazing! Simply amazing! Can't wait to read more!!!:eyepopping:

[person123]

This story is keeping me on my toes! Great pictures, too. I love the exotic..ness of the mermaid with the white hair.

[Lynet]

Oh, you sweethearts. It's been a lousy day at work and I checked in here and found all these nice comments. Thanks. I am much heartened. :)

[Lynet]

I dreamed of Kate. Kissing Kate. Kate, Darling, I’ve got a headache. Hold it…Hold it…I never get headaches! But I got one now. One humdinger of a headache. Kate faded away and my headache took over. “Unh….unh…Ow ow ow ow ouch. OUCH!”

Whispering, “Ssst. Sssh. Sir Errol, you may draw the attention of Jurg. And there is something I must explain to you first.”

“Don’t call me Sir. Errol. Or Waring. Either one, but not Sir.”

“Errol Waring, please do not speak more.”

“No problem. I’m going back to sleep. Where’s the bed? Where are we? Ow, my head. Every time I move…” I opened one eye very cautiously but couldn‘t see anything. “Stop leaning on me Harcourt. Move off.” I pushed at him but he didn’t budge.

“I regret that I am not able to move away. We are in a small box.”

It was then that I remembered everything I‘d done. I had thrown the strange woman into the sea and been hit from behind by Jurg.

I managed to open my other eye. Neither eye seemed to work very well. “Tell me the truth, Harcourt. Don’t spare me. Is it dark in here or am I going blind?”

“There is no light. We are in a box in the hold of Jurg’s boat. I believe the sun has risen one hour or more since and that we are moving through waters more shallow than before. The boat rocks from the waves of shallow waters. I believe we are about to make contact with the island.”

“What about the mirrors, Harcourt? How soon do they come back?”

“It was late in the night when we arrived in this hold. It will be late tonight when they return.”

“We have to get out of this box. We have to be ready.”

“We are to be sold.”

“Hunh? That‘s nuts!”

“This is a primitive and backward world. It is done here.”

“For what purpose? Are we going to be mashed up into a powder for medicine?”

Harcourt’s shoulders shook for a moment. I heard something strange, Harcourt laughing. Very quietly, but laughing. “I extremely regret feeling this humor from your comment,” he whispered. “It is the very perilousness of our situation, I believe, that causes these urges to laugh. However, we are not to be killed. We will be required to perform labors.”

“And offering me a salary is not an option?”

“Would you work for anyone here?”

“You‘re kidding, right?”

“That is why we are to be sold and not offered a living wage.”

“You realize, don’t you, Harcourt, that the mirrors are on this boat and we can’t be separated from it, under any circumstances.”

“I am not able to forget about the mirrors. However, in talking to Jurg, while you were creating further trouble for us with his captive sea person, I learned that he had recently sold someone else to the people on this island.”

“So what do you want to do? Punch a hole in his hull as we leave? While we’re at it we should punch a hole in this whole wretched world. Drain some of the water. There‘s too much of it.”

“He described to me this person he had sold. It was Alka.”

I groaned. Now I knew what was coming, and it did.

“So we must allow ourselves to be sold. We must find her.”

[Lynet]

I've been home from work today and have spent the entire day (except for laundry and cooking supper) simming. I had so hoped to get two chapters up tonight but ran out of time. Pictures of the islanders and the island and another chapter should be up tomorrow.

Poor Errol. So worried about Kate, but more adventures to come first. I should reassure you that Ruthie is right in that the mirrors allow time travel as well. Although Errol will continue to worry, we shouldn't. :) Kate will be fine. In fact, better than fine. ;)

[surprised_by_witches]

Ooh, Lynet, what beautiful pictures, especially the island ... and I'm really into this story.

I want them to find Alka!

[Lynet]

:D I spent all day working on the island. It's the hugest lot :p and slow to load and slow to play, but it's so cool. I can't wait to show you. Crossing my fingers that all goes OK tomorrow.

[DuzzyGirl]

I can't wait to see it in more pictures!

[Lynet]

“Forced labor? Not a chance. I’ve done my time already. If you want to find Alka, you go right ahead, but I‘m going home.” I shifted my weight a bit, fully conscious now and mighty uncomfortable. We were packed in a crate not much larger than a coffin and the air was foul. Two men in a confined space after a sweaty twenty-four hours without a shower or a toothbrush. And if we weren’t released soon it was going to get a whole lot worse.

Our argument ended abruptly because the boat hit land. The timbers all around us shook and creaked as the boat beached hard. Our box slid across the splintery deck, throwing our heads against the end of it, which only added to the pain in mine. I heard voices overhead and the sound of heavy boots everywhere. Eventually a number of them descended into the hold and surrounded our box. I thought for a while they’d leave us in it and carry the box, but they wised up. It’s easier to deal with two unarmed men on foot than a big heavy box, so they pried off the top and hauled us out onto our feet.

We were pushed and pulled up the stairs and into the sun. My eyes were slow to adjust but I noted that Jurg’s boat was the only one in the small harbor. The harsh, rocky land curved around on both sides of it and rose steeply into mountains behind the village. And the village itself was just a handful of wooden and bamboo huts, some of them on stilts. Throw in some palm trees, a small fountain, and other odds and ends and you got the picture.

Because my first encounter with the people of this world had been Jurg I had low expectations for the rest of them. But the young men who surrounded us looked healthy. And the two women we passed on the beach were real nice to look at. If not for Kate…OK, I won’t go there…but one of the women, I swear it, winked at me. We also passed Jurg. He was talking to another guy, using his fingers to help himself count, striking his deals, I presume, for the cargo.

Harcourt and I were hustled down the beach and locked up inside a small shed. Once we were alone I sternly informed him that I planned to make a break for it as soon as I could and stow away on Jurg’s boat. “How?“ he asked wearily and then stayed quiet as I started examining the walls, looking for a weak seam. The air in the shed was better than it’d been in the box but not by much. This must be the lockup, I decided, for island troublemakers. Smelled like it.

The shed was strongly built. The wood was old and rock hard. I made a fist and pounded once or twice on one of the planks without effect. Then I pounded on it again out of anger and frustration. I did not look at Harcourt because I had a tremendous need to punch someone’s face. He was at risk for many reasons.

Somebody flung the door open and I turned, eager for the opportunity to fight whatever came through it, but two guys shoved me back as one grabbed Harcourt. Before I could regain my balance I was left alone in the shed. What could they possibly want with him that didn’t include me? I leaned against the wall,