Kate was not upstairs when I got back. Shed 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, youre upstairs walking out of the closet. Real impressive. I looked at the stairs to the second floor no, forget itwhat 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 cant I get any straight ANSWERS I yelled at the ceiling. Easy, easy, I told myself. Anger management, remember? Breathe deepcountcount. 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. Im 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 isI can only sayit 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 whos 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 isnt really here? Harcourt, the woman Im soon to marry is a police lieutenant. I bet shell find your description on a list of escapees from the towns kook asylum. No, I wont, Kate said. She closed the front door, walked over and handed me the newspaper. Im 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 Speedys. What? Im no mugger! Doesnt matter. Im out. I resigned. Im not a mugger. Never was. Calm down, Baby. I knew this would happen. Im OK with it. I was tired of the work, anyway. You see the worst in people every day. Whered the Tin Man go? Back to his place somewhere in time, I suppose. I bet well see him at dinnertime. Lets you and me forget all this and go dancing. She smiled and we went out to the truck.
I woke up in the middle of the night when the house shook. I looked over at Kate. She turned over but didnt 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 Id 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 Im warm. Lets 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 hed 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.
So sorry -- I don't have more chapters ready yet. 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.
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. Youd think hed 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 didnt 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 didnt 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 couldnt 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 didnt 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 thered 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 Ive ever had. Except for the food. Ive dreamed better food than this.
I dont 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. Alkas gone, she snapped. We do not know where she isalive or dead. We do not mention her name here. Harcourts eyes sunk into his head and his shoulders drooped inside the heavy fur coat. Thats when I realized that I was understanding the words. Id followed the whole exchange and Id learned something about Harcourt. He was in love. I didnt 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 cant believe he sat still long enough. I thought shed cut me off and walk away, but Id been careful not to say the offending name. She didnt turn her back on me. She just looked sad. I will tell you, she said, about Alka.
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 girls 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 iswasnot 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.
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.
You guys have all sucked me right in. I've become more concerned with all your stories than my own! Keep it up!
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.
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 Im dreaming. I put my hand on the window. Nope, Im 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 Harcourts 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 Ive 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. Id forgotten. Then I noticed he wasnt wearing the fur coat. He was dressed in a clown suit. So wheres the fur coat. If you dont 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 Harcourts 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. Theyre sharing their food with us and there is not much of it here to share. Say Thank you kindly. Thats all. He looked thoughtful but kept quiet until the soldiers had left the room. Then he said, They will all die tonight.
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 youre saying? He didnt 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 someones 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 boomboomboom 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 cant, 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. Im 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.
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.
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. 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.
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.”
