Tuesday, November 08, 2005
The Pendant (p. II) - By Abigail Coover
Chapter 2
An Old Man and His Gift
The following day passed in a dreary squall of soaking, rainy weather. Not being overly anxious to go home, Carissa spent most of her after-school hours at her friend Renee's house. She wasn't in the mood to be shut up alone at her desk while the rain beat the windows. It was much cozier to curl up on a bean bag chair in Renee's room while the two of them shared a bowl of popcorn and dawdled over their homework.
Six years ago Carissa's family had moved to their current home, and since then Renee had been Carissa's one lasting friend. Occasionally the two of them met with a difference of opinion, but for the most part it was a workable friendship.
Carissa lost patience with her math book and slammed it shut. "I don't have the stomach for any more graphing," she muttered, dropping the book to the carpet and taking a handful from the popcorn bowl on the floor. She leaned back and began munching, then swallowed and said, "I can't wait for Saturday."
Renee glanced at her, nervously tapping her pencil's eraser against the cover of her history book, and asked, "What's Saturday?"
"Well, you know!" Carissa replied. "The trip to Hyde's Park, remember?"
Renee nodded with a forced show of sudden remembrance and shifted uncomfortably. "Right, Hyde's Park - actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."
Carissa looked up from her popcorn, suddenly wary. "What about it?"
"Well, we have five tickets, so I figured we ought to find some more people to go along. It's always more fun if you have a group, right?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So, I talked to Tabitha and her people, and they agreed to come."
Carissa's eyebrows flicked up in surprise. "Wait, Tabitha? You mean as in Tabitha and Laura and Rachel? Cami Wheeler's group?"
"Yeah."
"But they're practically inseparable. How did you convince them to leave a person out?" Renee shifted position again and began speaking to the ceiling, which told Carissa there was something coming that she didn't want to hear. "Well, you see, that's just it. See, they, um ... the only way they would agree to come was if they all could come together, and ... you're the only person left to leave out."
Carissa sat up straight. "What?"
"I tried to negotiate another solution, Carissa, I really did, but they wouldn't change their minds. You know how stubborn they can be."
"But ... but..." Carissa's voice struggled for a foothold as she sputtered through her disbelief. "You can't leave me out. It was my father who got us the tickets in the first place."
Renee's apologetic pout turned to impatience and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Carissa, what else was I supposed to do? It would be way too boring going by ourselves."
Carissa glowered at her, appalled and bruised by her lack of loyalty. "You're supposed to be a friend and tell them there's only three openings," she said darkly.
Renee scrunched herself into a supercilious huff. "Well, look, it didn't work out that way, so this is just how it'll have to be. If you want to bawl about it, go do it somewhere else."
Carissa sprang to her feet, livid. "How can you be this way?" she cried. "How can you be so selfish?"
Renee stood up face-to-face with Carissa and stared her down, taking advantage of the fact that she was two inches taller. "I think you should leave," she said coldly.
"You don't have to tell me twice." Carissa grabbed her jacket and thundered out of the room in an angry fit. Renee hurried after her down the stairs to the front door.
On the stoop Carissa halted and spun around. "You know what? Maybe I'll just keep the tickets and find some new friends to go with me."
Renee raised a haughty eyebrow. "Yeah? Well, happy hunting." She slammed the door with a mighty bang that rattled the windows. The dull thumping of her footsteps could be heard as she stomped up the stairs inside.
Carissa remained on the stoop, staring furiously at the door. The blank wood returned her gaze without expression or sympathy. Bitterly shoving her hands deep into her pockets, she stepped heavily off the stoop and started for home.
The night was stained black, and storm clouds still hung low and heavy in the sky. They had already expelled their stores of rain, wind and thunder, and now lingered above the town like warlords hovering over a recent conquest. The sidewalk was vacant in the post-storm calm and the road devoid of traffic. Her footsteps echoed slightly off the slick pavement, while leftover rainwater quietly gurgled into a gutter on the curb. Tall, brick buildings held dominion over the sidewalk to Carissa's right, giving way on the opposite side of the street to rows of small, one-story houses behind bushy front lawns. The street lamps had awakened, casting their personal halos on the ground and tinting the air a slight orangey glow.
Carissa walked absently past the storefronts of numerous first-floor businesses, already closed for the night. Blackened doorways and yawning display shop windows leered at her spookily, making her shiver. She slowed and stopped in front of one window to study her reflection. In the dim light, she could just make out her deep brown eyes, blonde hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, and blue jacket collar. Suddenly becoming aware of the lack of weight on her back, she realized with dismay that she had left her backpack and schoolbooks at Renee's house. Oh well, she sighed. There was no way she was going back for them now.
She turned away from the window and walked on, immersed in a cloud of discontent. Why did Renee have to be so awful? It seemed that no matter what she did or where she went, she could never escape the feeling of being thoroughly insignificant.
A chilly wind swept off the wet street, and Carissa pulled her jacket tighter around her body. She walked more quickly, eager to get out of the dreary night, and soon approached the corner half a block from her house. As she stepped into the street to cross to the next block, a dark figure emerged and obstructed her path. It was an elderly gentleman, slightly stooped and covered with a long black overcoat. He appeared so suddenly that Carissa barely avoided running into him.
"Excuse me," she mumbled, and quickly moved past him to the opposite curb.
"Don't go, Carissa," the voice from the coat said in a slow, odd tone, bringing her to an abrupt halt. The man turned and fixed her with a steady eye. "I must speak with you." Carissa stared at him in bewilderment as he moved to join her on the sidewalk. He was hardly threatening, just barely as tall as she, and Carissa's curiosity held her still.
The man came into the lamplight and lifted his chin, revealing an old wrinkled face with an elastic grin and a cucumber nose. His eyes twinkled like a little boy's, and several wisps of white hair crowned his elderly head. Aside from his apparent age, there was something additionally weathered about his appearance, as if he had withstood many colorful experiences, both pleasant and difficult. His body was full of years, but his eyes were clear and displayed vigor.
"Headed for home?" he asked liltingly. His voice crinkled like the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and contained a peculiarly soothing quality. Carissa could not force a response, but only stared at him in puzzlement. "She told me I would find you here, but I didn't believe it." He chuckled quietly, as if laughing at his own ignorance, and then noticed Carissa still watching him as she waited for an explanation. "Forgive me," he said, "I must get to the point. I have been sent, eh, to give you this."
As he spoke, he reached inside his coat with a bony hand and brought out a glimmering object. He raised it to the lamplight and Carissa saw that it was a deep blue stone, a pendant, cut into the shape of a teardrop, that hung from a silver chain. The light reflected dazzlingly off each polished surface, so that it glittered like the finest gem. Yet, there was something gloriously eerie about it that set it apart from any ordinary stone. From the moment Carissa set her eyes on it, she felt her breath stick in her throat and a peculiar feeling spread over her. Chills and burning sparks shivered through her body and something deep within her flared to life, something that had been dormant and was now awakened. What that something was, Carissa could not guess.
The stone was so enrapturing, so singular in quality that the silver chain and backing, though exquisite, seemed an inadequate decoration to surround it. It was as if it contained the depths of the ocean in its core, and the more Carissa looked, the more she felt she could not tear her eyes from it.
"This," the old man said, a kindled expressiveness entering his voice, "this is a transporter. It is a doorway. It is a connector of worlds and galaxies. This tiny crystal contains the power to take you across time, through the systems of a million suns, and far beyond anything you could hope to imagine, just by using your will."
He spoke with such passion and energy that Carissa found herself clinging to every word, forgetting how impossible each sounded. "Take it," he told her then, holding the pendant out to her in his fist. "You must now be its keeper. Take it."
Very confused, but in no state of mind to object, Carissa uncertainly reached a hand out to receive the object. Its presence in her palm was cool and heavy.
"You must guard it as you guard your own life," the man continued, taking Carissa by surprise with the seriousness of his words. "And be warned! There are others who would-"
Suddenly he stopped and appeared startled, as if something unexpected had happened. His face went ashen and his voice held a tremor as he mumbled quietly to himself. "They can't have ... no.... They've found me again!" His eyes lost their childlike twinkle and now burned only with deep concern. He looked down and addressed Carissa frantically. "I'm sorry, child, I've led them to you!"
"Who?" Carissa cried, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"
"There isn't time now. You must go!"
"What? But-" At that moment she stopped talking, because a strange and terrible sound had reached her ears. It was blood-chilling in its tone, a howl so cold and raking that it seemed to clash with the air, an intruder and a sacrilege to every native sound. She squinted and peered down the length of the street, to the furthest end, where she saw at least a dozen swift creatures come racing around the corner. At first they appeared to be a pack of large dogs, but it was difficult to tell because of the distance and darkness.
The old man repeated, "You must go!" He started to leave.
"Wait!" Carissa yelled. "What are those?"
He turned back and, gripping her arm, said fervently, "Run, child, run!" Then he vanished into the shadows from which he had come.
Carissa looked down the street again. The creatures streaked over the pavement, gaining ground so quickly that they soon became more clearly visible in the lamplight. If any sight could be repugnant enough to fit with the alien sound she had heard, it would be the things she now saw racing towards her. They were abhorrent to her eyes, like the embodiment of every intangible nightmare that had ever disrupted her dreams. She gasped the moment she glimpsed them, and felt an acid, steely taste in her throat.
They ran on four powerfully built legs, unkempt, brown-furred backs arching and falling with every stride. Their bodies were hard and lean, deep-chested with ribs that distended sharply as they breathed. Their snouts rippled in an eternal snarl, and each had an obscene number of teeth which their jaws struggled to contain. They had long tails and horrid, curved claws, but it was the eyes that were the worst. Wide, round, and protruding, they had stone-grey pupils that seemed to hold within them a precarious mix of intelligence and madness.
Carissa didn't believe in werewolves, but that was the first word that came to her mind to describe the creatures. Her knees weakened, and she pressed herself into the wall, wishing to let it absorb her. She couldn't move and couldn't run. Breathing seemed a strenuous task.
Then one of the beasts at the group's head locked its gaze on hers. She saw a horrible flicker of recognition cross its eyes, and the trembling spread to her whole body as she realized: the creatures knew exactly what they were looking for, and they had found it. This realization came on her with devastating dreadfulness, and she was, in that instant, more terrified than she had ever been.
With a vicious, command-like snarl, the lead creature lunged forward with renewed energy, coming straight for her. Carissa's stomach leapt into her throat and she nearly burst into tears. She broke and ran down the sidewalk, but her legs felt useless with drunken fear.
She stumbled across the street into a darkened construction site, where she zigzagged between dirt mounds and monolithic earthmoving machinery, sliding on loose stones and mud. Carissa knew she could never outrun these beings, and looked wildly about as she ran, searching in frantic desperation for a hiding place. Her heart was racing with an unaccustomed speed and fervency, thrust suddenly from the temporal security of a comfortable, civilized life and forced to rely upon its most primal instinct. Only a few times in childhood play had Carissa ever come close to this sensation, of needing to escape, of being the hunted, of having her whole body awash with a sense of urgency and impending danger. Finally, she spied a sizable stack of two-by fours, with a steep embankment rising behind and several feet of space in between. With no time remaining to find a better shelter, she threw herself into that narrow crevice.
All around her the loathsome creatures tore into the site, hunting their quarry, snarling and snorting as they raked bare every hidden space. Carissa stood with her back tight against the pile, pressing into its shadow. Her breath heaved within her, her blood throbbing hotly through her veins. Alert to the inadequacy of her one-walled refuge, she knew she could not hide for long.
Her body tensed with adrenalin as she anticipated her inevitable fate, and suddenly she felt a strange warmth in her palm. With a start, Carissa looked down and realized that she was still clutching the pendant. More startling by far, it had begun to glow.
As she stared in astonishment, the stone filled with a radiant blue light, becoming brighter and brighter until it seemed it might explode from all the brilliance it contained. Then, with tremendous energy, the light burst from the stone's center. Carissa quickly turned away, shielding her eyes. Surging from the stone, the light banished all shadow and wrapped around her in an engulfing wave. A furious, electrifying energy pulsated through her body, tingling past her fingertips. With one last, heart-quickening flash, she and the pendant disappeared.
to be cont'd...
submitted at 10:57 AM
at 9:00 a.m. my mother wakes me
(you're awake?) she asks
I look and nod at something with a smile
and if I remember right, this is what happened
Tons of her relatives under a massive aging wooden table, rolling around on smaller more proportioned chairs, wooden and old alike, drinking and laughing, talking nonsense to each other. They rolled and rolled like a carnival on these chairs with flat bottomed legs that rolled like office chairs. Where the table ends is where a green field opens up, and then a hill just ahead, more of a ramp I would say, a dirt ramp with small resting areas with small wooden doors behind them where people gathered. The doors were surrounded by shadows that had been hand drawn around each door, whoever drew them used thick ink, you could feel the shadows dripping on your shoulder and all around.
I walk through a door behind people of whom I knew their names but wouldn't say (hello) to, which made them feel like strangers. and probably should be. I join them and watch, we watched like viewers of old gladiators, sipping brew and waiting to cheer in this dream-rendered coliseum.
As I watch I see my bride and her relatives and then I move down the hill and underneath the table, my presence seems unacknowledged, the relatives ride around me like bumper cars.
when suddenly almost everyone files out, leaving me, my bride, her aunt, and a distant cousin. Now my presence is known, they all look into my eyes. They were about to leave and so I gave my bride a forceful kiss that was accepted but not recognized as anything familiar nor anything of any romantic value, it didn't mean anything, it seemed as common as taking aspirin or paying a bill. She stepped back because I pressed so hard. then she gathered herself and watched as her aunt pulled an exact replica of her body from the ground. The body was a costume, another layer that she was to wear. Her aunt spoke of how well prepared everything was and how beautiful the costume looked. I tried it on. They all watched me, and again I did something that was easily accepted, completely unworthy of notice. I asked her (is this ok?) her cousin and aunt left immediately and then she turned from me, picked up her dress, her dress that she was to marry me in, smiled and said (two of us is better than one). She veiled herself and rushed out through one of the doors, faster than anything I'd seen.
I follow much slower. Through and into a large warehouse like room painted white with no furniture, nothing but scrap paper fallen from bulletin boards hung scarcely along the walls. Her speed had created a distance between us, I had to look far with my eyes to notice she was gone, I ran fast, and reached the doors as they were slowly closing.
A high school hallway was next. A high school hallway on the last day of school or so it seemed. Thousands of boys, only boys running violently past the locker lined hall. I stould in the door, and wasn't touched, when I looked ahead and saw my bride at the head, they were all after her.
I tried to jump in, but I couldn't, and I don't know why.
Finally after they had all passed all but two stragglers, I accessed the hall. I ran alongside the two slowest chasers until we hit the turn, and I followed one of them into the wall with my shoulder. He looked at me and began to cry. He was saying he was sorry, and his friend was tired and sweating, looking at me like he was confused, but in a hurry.
The boy in tears had a small note attached to his chest. He grabbed it when I went to read it. To get it out of his hands, I placed my two hands on the wall and kicked him in the side.
He threw the note to the floor, I walked over to get it and read somewhat to myself, somewhat in a whisper, somewhat in a panter of anxiety, somewhat in my own tears now: "I love you for all the nights we could have, for all of the love in this physical world, I love you for your body pressed against mine."
And in this rarest occasion. I saw two men. I cried to myself solemn for them, for what they were.
And in the same solemn and conciliative form, without anger, I placed both my hands on the wall for a second time.
The other man watched me paint the wall red. He watched it dry. He watched it become old.
At 9:50 a.m. my mother wakes me.
(church starts in 10 minutes, were leaving.) she says
I sit up and stare at the empty doorway.
submitted at 10:24 AM
Your friends with their best regards
giving hugs for your grand departure
your dad and those heavy bags,
I tried so hard not to laugh, on
the drive
and a stop at home
collecting everything I needed:
the songs I always sing for guidance
came up again,
when you flew away
and darkness wouldn't leave for morning
my car, with an empty seat
I couldn't see
I drove aside from sobbing
and now, I'm all alone
on a stepping stone
the tight rope stretched across my next
biggest move
where I'm sure to lose
"Where the fuck is destiny?"
submitted at 10:19 AM
I write to this address,
where my letters might pile up,
far remote from where you are now, up the hill, even walking distance
my old pen pal, (we met for two weeks)
unstable laughter, wild travelers, we slept together-
until you flew away, and the time changed
it caught up with me and brought me down
I could see you if I wanted
but this
is the last place you loved me
this address
submitted at 10:11 AM