back, at least to this part.
Sometimes I still feel like they're watching me, even when they're not there. The main one, she told me her name is Notatia (I couldn't say her real name, we tried and tried, it's the best I could do, it's not like I wanted to be off on the wrong foot, but I think that they don't make sounds the way we do, so they can do things we can't. It's just a theory though, I've only seen them look like us), told me that I was being paranoid, which apparently means the same thing to them as it does to us, but I don't know. Their eyes feel different when they look at you, it's heavier. She said that's because they have more gravity where they come from originally.
Oh, yeah, that's the other thing, they're not from here, either, as far as I can tell. Or they've been here for a while, but it's not their starting-off place, if you know what I mean. The place they came from, Notatia told me that it's not there anymore. It used to be there, and it used to be filled with them, and their animals--they have animals, too--but now it's not.
She didn't want to talk about it anymore.
This is their place now, but it seems kind of crowded to me, not that I know how many there are here. I want to try to go further, to see, more, but it never seems to work out that way. They always find me right before I get to the edge of the woods, or whatever they are. They're not really trees, because, like I told you, the tree-things don't go up and down, but these are tall the way trees are, only they're softer, almost slimy if you put your hand on them.
I touched them a couple of times, and then I wondered if maybe I shouldn't have. I seem ok, though. Anyway, they grow around the area I've been in since I got here, I think in a circle or a square, the border's too big for me to really tell, I can only see a small piece of it at a time, and they find me before I can get too far if I try to walk my way around it.
It looks like a forest in there, but I can't go in, the slimy stuff from the plants, it drips and drips and mixes with the ground--I guess it's soil, but it's hard to tell, it's bright blue, deep, but a muddy kind of navy color when the slime mixes in. If you try to put your foot down there, it rests on top for a second, and then starts to sink, and then you get the strangest feeling that it's like hand, there on your foot, pulling you down.
I only tried the once.
I'm not sure they like it here too much. Like I said, it seems crowded, and they don't like the slimy stuff, either. I've seen it, when it gets on them, it eats through whatever it is they're wearing, and whatever it is that makes them look like us, and in those tiny places, you can see little bits of orange leak through.
I wonder if they really look like big carrots.
I don't want to ask them, though, they might get offended.
Anyway, it doesn't eat through anything on me, it's only that I don't like how it feels. I asked them how much of this place has those big plants, and Notatia said, "too much of it."
It feels like they're packing up, I don't know why. They don't like the ashy fruit either, or much of anything they find here. I asked Notatia what kind of things they eat where she comes from, and she got this look on her face, and even though it wasn't her real face, I still know how she felt. She told me that her favorite fruit was this one that you didn't eat the flesh, you just ate the seeds, which were shiny and jewel-like and tasted delicious. She said the seeds were coated in these small green packets, and I said we have something like that, too, but it's red inside.
Well, her face lit up completely.
She asked me about the other things we have here, and I told her, and she liked the next thing I told her more than the last.
I have to be honest with you, in my time here, and it's starting to feel like it's been a while, I wasn't sure that that Notatia actually liked me, but today she seemed like she really did.
They say that the big boss wants them to move out, there's not enough space, like I suspected. They're going to look for somewhere else to be, since this one didn't seem to work out, and their old place is gone.
They said they'd drop me off on the way.
That’s One Way to Get into a Novel
She paused in the doorway and glanced back at the book on the side table. Resting her hand on the doorframe, she closed her eyes, only for a moment, she told herself. It couldn’t work.
But what if it did?
“No need to be frightened,” the woman said, appearing from nowhere, delicate wisps of hair jutting from her wild bun. She yanked Lorna through the doorway. “It’s all very safe. Ish.”
“I thought you told me it had been tested.”
The bun-wisps landed gently as she held perfectly still. “But of course it’s been tested. Wasn’t I clear? It just hasn’t been tested on people. It’s a tiny difference, pretty meaningless really, the point is, it’s been tested.”
“Maybe I should have asked earlier, umm, Ida –
“Aunty Ida’s fine, dear.”
“ – Ida, but, well, did the tests come out all right?”
“Well, it’s awfully difficult to ask a rat, now, isn’t it? Follow me, please.” Ida’s shoes squeaked against the glossy linoleum floor. She stopped and turned. “Come along, the hallway’s long today, you don’t want to get lost.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten out of the chair. “You say it will create the whole world, faithfully?”
Ida squeaked her way back and rested both hands on Lorna’s arms. “That’s the beauty of it,” she said, “It doesn’t create the world. You do. The whole thing is right up here.” She gently poked Lorna’s temple. “You did pay attention while reading, didn’t you?”
“I’ve read it more than a hundred times.” Lorna found herself moving forward, pulled by Ida’s hand, still on her arm. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
“Here we are,” Ida said, opening a heavy steel door, “welcome to my lair.” Lorna drained of color. “Oh no, oh my, it was only a little joke, Dot keeps telling me I shouldn’t try to make light, she says it’s not becoming and I just don’t have a good sense of humor, but I really think I do, I’m pretty sure I can build something to prove it, too.”
“No,” Lorna said, “it’s not your joke, it’s that.” She pointed to the machine, all straps and heavy wood.
“Isn’t it lovely?” said Ida, her face aglow with motherly pride. “Lovely. In you go.”
“In? That?”
“Of course. How else do you think it will happen? As they say, ‘The bigger the machine, the stronger the dream.’”
“Who says that? No one says that,” Lorna said as Ida guided her into the chair. “Besides, you said it wouldn’t be a dream, exactly. You said I’d be inside the novel, as far as I knew.”
Ida tightened the ankle straps first, working her way up Lorna’s leg. “But ‘induced persistent fantastic delusion’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it?”
“I don’t think it’s the ring you’re going for, honestly. I think I’ve changed my mind,” she said as Ida buckled in her left arm.
“Oh nonsense, it will be wonderful, everything you wanted.” She lowered the metal bowl at the top. “Relax. Enjoy your book.” She headed toward a control panel, stopped, returned to the chair and lifted the bowl. “There is the teeniest, smallest chance you won’t come back, but since it’s your favorite book – you signed those papers swearing to it, remember? Since it’s your favorite, it shouldn’t be much of a problem. Enjoy!” Before Lorna could speak, Ida snapped the bowl back in place and returned to the control panel, switching it on with a click.
“Ah, science,” Ida said.
###
Books by Isa-Lee Wolf
Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only)
The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management
Acknowledgements
Life is change, whether you want it or not. Over the last 18 months, life twisted and jerked in directions that felt, at once, impossible and unavoidable. But here I am, and here you are, and there it was and is, and there is nothing w
e can do about it now, if we ever could.
This collection is dedicated to all of the people who made that change a little more tolerable, from my family who floundered ahead with me, to my friends who tried to shed some light in the dark corners, to the countless strangers -- professionals, waiting room companions, cafeteria cashiers – who lent a little strength.
And this book is for anyone else who’s weathered change, welcome or unwelcome, as well as the people who help others, acting as a sturdy platform in churning seas.
For anyone who still has undulating skies above and unsteady ground below, I hope these stories give you a few minutes of escape. Sometimes that is all you need before you can return, renewed, to the task at hand.
Credits
Cover: Created as work-for-hire by (the extremely talented) S.A. Hunt. Visit his website, TheUsualMadman.net.
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