Brave Story

  “So right now I’m inside a daydream?” Wataru spread out his hands. The sand carried in the wind stung his eyes. “I can feel the wind on my face, the heat of the sun on my neck, and the dust blowing all the way into my throat. Can this all be just an illusion?”

  “It can to you, man-child, lost child.”

  Wataru stood up on the rocky outcropping. All around him were rough stones, and his footing was unsure. “All of this desert that I can see from here? Every bit of it’s a fantasy? None of it’s real?”

  “Well, I’ve never been to this ‘real’ place you speak of, so how could I know the difference?” The scarlet bird’s head twitched. “You’re quite sure that reality and fantasy are opposites?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Well then if Over There is real, that would make Over Here unreal. A fantasy, as you say. Regardless, man-child, you must return to Over There immediately, and so the question is rather academic.”

  “I have to go back?”

  “Strays must not be left to wander. ’Tis the law.”

  “But I followed a friend in here. I couldn’t leave him behind.”

  “From what I’ve heard of your story, it sounds like this friend of yours isn’t lost like you. If he’s able to freely enter and leave the Porta Nectere, then he must be a Traveler, authorized by the Gatekeeper. You’ve no need to worry on his account.”

  “But…” Wataru began as the scarlet bird spread its wings and took to the air, once again trying to grab him by the back of his shirt. “Wait! I don’t want to go back yet!”

  Wataru ducked down and ran from the bird’s clutching claws. He jumped back to the edge of the outcropping, but his left foot landed poorly on the rough surface and he felt a sudden pain stab through his ankle.

  “Ouch!”

  Losing his balance, he tumbled down sideways off the edge. For a moment, a blue slice of sky flashed before his eyes, then he stopped falling abruptly and fell flat on his back on another slab of rock. Apparently, another ledge below the top of the outcropping had caught him before he fell all the way down.

  Well, that was lucky, at least.

  Wataru placed his hand on the lip of the ledge and hauled himself up. A shadow swooped over his head. The scarlet bird was curving about for another pass.

  If I don’t get out of here quick I’ll be back in its claws again.

  He would have to move deeper under the ledge. Wataru backed up, feeling his way with his hands while keeping an eye on the skies above him. His right hand bumped into something warm and furry.

  That doesn’t feel like a rock…

  Slowly turning to look, he found himself face-to-face with another screwwolf. Wataru ran screaming all the way to the edge of the rocky ledge. The scarlet bird’s shadow approached almost immediately.

  So this is what they mean when they say, “Caught between a rock and a hard place.”

  Wataru looked back fearfully, but the screw-wolf hadn’t charged. Wataru shouted at it again, and it didn’t move an inch. He looked closer and only then did he realize that he was looking at a screw-wolf’s head—the body was nowhere to be seen.

  It’s dead?

  Wataru looked around and saw more heads. Bits and pieces of skulls were caught in between the rocks here, and there, and over there. He looked down and saw bone fragments and fossilized flesh stuck to his shirt and his pants.

  “What on earth?”

  Wataru brushed the detritus off his arms and legs. Too late, he remembered his pursuer and, when he next looked up, claws caught at his neck, and his legs were dangling in mid-air.

  “And now, it is time for you to go home,” the bird scolded, sounding for all the world like a strict teacher. “Laws are to be obeyed. I’m sure they taught you that where you’re from.”

  Wataru didn’t struggle. He was more intent on getting the rest of the wolf bits off his clothing. “What is this mess?”

  “Gimblewolf husks. You found a bone-pile.”

  “Why would someone make a collection of that?”

  “We would. Gimblewolves are good eating, for the most part, but the heads are quite inedible,” came the answer from above. “They’re also a bit violent, as you know. When we catch one, we bang their heads on the rocks to kill them. It’s an easy way to do it, and it gets rid of the inedible bits at the same time. Two birds with one stone, you might say.”

  “You eat those wolf things?”

  “We do indeed. That’s why we’ve made this desert our territory,” the scarlet bird explained as it steadily beat its wings, taking them higher and higher. Wataru felt drained, as though his batteries had run down, and so he hung limply, allowing himself be carried along.

  After they had flown for a while they entered the thick clouds. Soft, fluffy billowing puffs brushed against Wataru’s legs and face. They had the light scent of peppermint. Fragrant clouds? Come to think of it, Wataru had never been in a cloud in the real world, either. Maybe they smelled like something too.

  “Well, here we are,” his escort said loudly, with an especially powerful flap of his wings. Wataru shot up through the clouds, and then was released, coming to a gentle landing on his rump atop a cloudbank.

  Before his eyes stood a colossal silver wall. Had the bird not explained it before, he wouldn’t have realized that it was the gate. It was huge, gargantuan. He felt like an ant looking up at the entranceway to a grand hotel.

  “The Porta Nectere,” announced the scarlet bird as he came in for a soft landing. “That streak of particularly bright white light running down the center is a sign that the gates are open. When they’re closed, you can’t see that light at all.”

  The giant gate’s shape seemed to be similar to the one Wataru had come through on his way in. He didn’t see any doorknobs or handles.

  “The doors will open when you approach them.”

  Wataru hesitated and looked up at the scarlet bird. Its eyes shone bright with dazzling reflected light.

  “Do I really have to go back?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Can I come back sometime? I really want to.”

  “You aren’t coming back,” the scarlet bird said harshly. “Only Travelers to whom the Gatekeeper has given permission may visit. You are a child of Over There, a man-child.”

  “Well, what do I have to do to become a Traveler?”

  “I couldn’t say.”

  “Who could say? The Gatekeeper?”

  “Man-child, in my world, those who ask too many questions find themselves hurled off clouds.”

  Wataru’s shoulders slumped. He wanted to cry.

  Its eyes shining, the scarlet bird spoke again, this time in a gentler tone. “Do not be sad. After you return to Over There you will forget about this place before you see one sunrise and one sunset. You aren’t allowed to take anything from Over Here to Over There, not even memories.”

  Wataru walked slowly toward the door, his head hanging. Just as the bird had said, the gates began to silently open as he approached. It was as if the gate-doors themselves were emitting light. So dazzlingly bright it was that Wataru couldn’t lift his eyes. He moved quicker now, feeling drawn to the widening crack between the two doors.

  “Man-child, I wish you a good life.” The bird’s voice sounded very small, as if it were coming from far behind him. “My name is Gigah of the karulah. Perhaps we will meet again, in the dark of the Over There, in your dreams.”

  Wataru’s eyes were still open, yet he couldn’t see a thing. Or maybe I’m seeing the light…pure radiance. He didn’t even know for sure if he was walking forward or backward. It felt more like he was softly floating. His consciousness faded as the light enveloped him.

  Vision…the Porta Nectere…just what are you doing here…why did you come here…hot desert wind and Gigah’s scarlet feathers…blue sky and green fields…

  “Wataru! Wataru!”

  Who is that calling me? Who’s slapping me…my face…stop…stop!

  Where am I?
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  Wataru opened his eyes and saw his uncle standing over him.

  Chapter 8

  The Realities of Life

  “ Wataru! You’re awake!”

  “Uncle Lou…” Wataru whispered.

  “Thank heavens!” his uncle said, looking as though he might cry at any moment. “Are you hurt? Are you in pain? I didn’t know what to do…”

  “I’m…I’m fine, really.”

  Wataru tried to sit up, but a hand reached out and held his shoulder down. “Best not to get up too quickly. Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?”

  It was Mr. Daimatsu. He was smiling.

  “Mr. Daimatsu!” What’s he doing here? Wataru felt lightheaded, and his voice sounded stuffy and far away in his own head. He tried blinking several times.

  He found himself in an unfamiliar room. The ceiling light in the middle of the room was square, with a gold frame. It looked expensive.

  “Welcome to my home,” Mr. Daimatsu said. “To the guestroom, to be exact. I hope the bed’s not too hard.”

  Uncle Lou was standing next to him, looking very distraught. “I found you lying on the ground in that building. Do you remember? I left you in there to take a phone call, and when I came back in, there you were, at the bottom of the stairs…” His uncle began to sniffle.

  Mr. Daimatsu smiled and clapped his uncle on the shoulder. “Your uncle was so worried about you I feared he might faint on me too. He dragged you outside the tarps and was about to take you to the hospital when I happened along,” he said over the sound of Uncle Lou’s sniffling beside him. “I brought you both here.”

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Satoru said, wiping his nose, “but Mr. Daimatsu noticed you didn’t look particularly pale and you seemed to be breathing normally. You appeared to have just fallen asleep. I’m afraid I was on the phone quite a long time, you see…anyway, it was his idea to bring you back here and give you a chance to wake up on your own before going to the hospital.”

  “Why, all I could see was a boy taking a rather peaceful nap. You were even smiling. Have any good dreams?” Mr. Daimatsu smiled.

  When I was in Vision, my body must have stayed behind…asleep.

  “I’m fine,” Wataru said, shaking the last of the fog from his head. “Thank you, Mr. Daimatsu. I’m sorry I went into your building.”

  Wataru’s words seemed to snap his uncle back to reality. He immediately began to apologize. “Mr. Daimatsu, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that we trespassed on your property like that…”

  Mr. Daimatsu laughed out loud. “Like I said, please, don’t worry about it. Wataru, I heard the story from your uncle. If there’s someone in that building who is threatening children—I don’t care who it is—we need to take appropriate action. Don’t worry, I’ll do everything necessary to make sure that building stays safe.” Mr. Daimatsu scratched his head with a thick-fingered hand. “We never really took it seriously when that rumor about the haunting was going around. I thought everything would be fine if we just dropped by every once in a while to check up on the place and make sure no one was getting into trouble.”

  “That’s why he came by tonight, to check the place out,” Satoru said, practically cringing with embarrassment. “Good for us. By myself, why, I had no idea what to do.”

  The relief on his face was evident, but something didn’t quite fit. Uncle Lou was a lifeguard with years of experience. He had saved countless lives before. So why did he get so flustered when it was me? Does that make sense?

  “If you’re feeling okay, perhaps we should get going?”

  Wataru nodded. Mr. Daimatsu offered to give them a lift, but his uncle politely refused. “It’s not far, and I wouldn’t dream of imposing any more than we already have. I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

  “As you like. Wataru, I’m glad you’re feeling better. And you needn’t be concerned about that building any longer.”

  Wataru nodded again, and said he understood—although secretly he was disappointed. If Mr. Daimatsu really did intend to put proper security on the building, it would be more difficult to reach the Porta Nectere.

  I have to talk to Mitsuru.

  Wataru wouldn’t avoid him or run away this time, and he wouldn’t let Mitsuru dodge him again. Wataru wouldn’t back down, not even if he was made a fool of again.

  Was Mitsuru really one of the Travelers he had heard about? How did someone get accepted by the gatekeeper? And what was he doing, going between this world and the other, anyway? Wataru had no shortage of questions wanting answers.

  As they left Mr. Daimatsu’s and began walking down the darkened road, Satoru held Wataru’s hand. It made Wataru feel uncomfortably like a little boy.

  “I’m fine, really. You don’t have to hold my hand.”

  Uncle Lou looked down at him, his face drawn. The corners of his eyes still glistened with tears.

  Wataru realized he still hadn’t apologized sufficiently. His uncle must’ve been worried sick. “I’m sorry. I am—I must have been tired. I wasn’t sick. I was just sleeping, like Mr. Daimatsu said. I wonder when I fell asleep. I must’ve really been out cold.”

  His uncle nodded. “No, it’s okay. I overreacted.” He walked ahead, when Wataru realized something was wrong. He was walking in the opposite direction from their apartment.

  “Uh, Uncle Lou, we’re going the wrong direction. That’s not the way home.”

  “You’re not going home tonight.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll be spending the night with me in the hotel, Wataru. We’ll walk to the main street and get a taxi.”

  Wataru followed his uncle, looking up at him. Even in the dim light of the streetlamps he could see his uncle’s face twisted strangely, like he was about to burst into tears. Then, quite suddenly, he seemed unusually happy.

  “That phone call, it was from your father.”

  He must be talking about the call that came in on his cell phone in the haunted building. “He said you could stay with me for the night.”

  A problem with that plan suggested itself immediately to Wataru. “But I don’t have tomorrow off. I have school tomorrow.”

  “We’ll get up early, and I’ll take you there.”

  “But I don’t have a change of clothes…”

  Wataru looked down at his shirt and trousers. Suddenly, he remembered the screw-wolves. Those bone fragments! There’s still got to be some on me.

  “Uncle Lou, don’t I smell? I mean, smell funny?”

  Wataru began frantically brushing at his clothes. His uncle stood quietly, hand over his face. Wataru was so absorbed in what he was doing, he didn’t find his uncle’s expression odd until he was finished.

  “Hey? What’s wrong? You feeling okay?”

  Uncle Lou talked through his fingers. “I can’t do this. I just can’t,” he said.

  Wataru stopped.

  “I won’t lie to you. And telling you this isn’t my job.”

  “Huh?”

  His uncle lifted his face and grabbed Wataru by the hand. Then he pulled him violently in the direction of his apartment. “Let’s go, Wataru. It’s your house too. You’ve a right to go home. You’ve a right to hear the whole story.”

  “Huh? Wh-what are you talking about?”

  “Just come. I’m taking you home.”

  His uncle dragged him by the hand, walking faster than Wataru had ever seen him walk before. They were practically running.

  But when they reached the apartment complex entranceway, his uncle suddenly stopped and hesitated. Steeling his resolve, he dragged Wataru to the elevator. Arriving on the correct floor, he hesitated once more. It was as though his uncle had to battle some horrible monster at every step to advance, a monster that only his uncle could see.

  Wataru was scared. Suddenly, he didn’t want to go home. Something dark and ominous rose in his chest. When his uncle said they would be staying at the hotel, he should’ve just agreed. Why did he have to worry about school, or a chang
e of clothes?

  Uncle Lou pressed the doorbell to their apartment. The sound of the chime echoed down the quiet hall. Wataru glanced at his wristwatch. It was already past midnight.

  He heard slippered feet shuffling toward the door. There was a click and the door opened. The chain was drawn. Akira Mitani’s face peered out from behind the door. Wataru stiffened. His father’s face was pale and tired. He looked like he had aged a hundred years in a single day.

  “Satoru?” he muttered, then he noticed that Wataru was with him, and his mouth tightened.

  “Good, I’m glad you’re still here,” his uncle said in a low voice. “I brought Wataru home. Let us in.”

  Akira closed the door. There was the sound of him clumsily unfastening the chain, and then they were let in without a word. Ahead of them Akira turned around and went back into the living room. Wataru hadn’t even been able to see his face.

  The light was on in the living room, but the kitchen and the bathroom were dark. Kuniko was nowhere to be seen. The door to his parents’ room was closed tightly.

  “Did Mom go to bed already?” Wataru asked, but there was no answer. For the first time, he noticed that his father had taken off his necktie, but he was still wearing his suit. “Did you get home late from work, Dad?”

  There was nothing on the table. The dishes were all clean and stacked. Akira didn’t answer his question. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it.

  From behind him, Uncle Lou asked, “Where’s Kuniko?” His voice sounded harsh in Wataru’s ear.

  “Asleep,” was Akira’s terse answer.

  Something was wrong. Everything was wrong! They were acting like his mother was sick. They were acting like someone had died.

  “Wataru,” Akira said suddenly. “Come over here and sit down.” He waved him over as he walked to the sofa. Stretching out a hand, he crushed his cigarette in an ashtray. It wasn’t something his father would normally do.

  “Akira!” Satoru said, his tone sounding almost threatening. “Your son is home. How can you…”

  “Quiet,” Akira said, coldly cutting him off.

  “But…”

  “It’s your fault for bringing him here, for making me do this.”