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Kalanna Rai
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 Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2010 11:09 pm Post subject: Ye Immortals- No I'm Not Dead, I'm Polling! |
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Prologue: Home Sweet Home
Battered blue eyes were the only thing that showed age, peering out from an ageless face with a century of sorrow. It was a ruin, the ceiling sagging as the roof slowly collapsed. The walls tilting like a fun-house as the wood of the floors warped and waved like a carved sea. Cobwebs hung like chandeliers and dust lay in a loving blanket over the debris. The door sagged open on rusted hinges while the boards that had held it shut until moments ago lay around his feet like discarded toys. Glass from the broken windows sparkled in the beams of sunlight that eased their way through the devastated shutters, long ago nailed shut.
Each step forward was uncomfortable giving off the feeling of one desecrating a tomb. Broken furniture loomed at him from every direction, reaching out with jagged ends like accusing fingers. Here and there were spots on the wallpaper where things had hung long enough to leave their mark. But where these things, these photographs and precious memories had gone was unknown. He wanted them. He felt like a tree whose roots had been severed. He knew where they should have been, remembered the rich soil, but the connection had been lost.
Hands trailed across the walls and the dust followed him in glittering trails. Each step brought forth a creak as the ruined house moaned in the pain of his presence. What had happened here and why had it been abandoned. They must have known he was coming back. He'd told them he'd be coming back. Tears lurked in the corners of his sky blue orbs and they were not just from the irritants in the air. Chains of pain squeezed him until he couldn't breath. Constricting a heart already unsteady in it's beats.
Upstairs was worse than down. The leaks in the roof had let in water and mold now gave the walls the color as it ate the paint. Here he was forced to tread carefully and test each step before committing his weight. He didn't want to fall through or to bring the wreck of a home down on top of him. Fitting end that would be for a man who'd bargained with death and won. But he couldn't stop himself from investigating the ruin. He owed it to those left behind.
But the rooms were merely devastated and empty. More broken wood and dust. Wreckage of the past. An eyesore the community had condemned and left to rot because it cared too little to do anything about it. But he remembered them as they'd been all those years ago when people who lived and loved had occupied them. His daughter's room, his sons' room, the room he'd shared with his wife. Where were they all now? What had become of them?
His sharp eyes spied something and his instincts sent him creeping across the rotten floor with single-minded intent. Long fingers with nails chewed to the quick poked and tugged at the small white square until it slipped free into his hands. A battered photograph of his family his face scribbled out in black marker. Written on the back were four words that broke his laboring heart into small pieces. 'Where Did You Go?'
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"So, find anything of interest in that dump?"
The caustic words seared the young man as he slammed the car door shut and secured himself with his seat belt. Blue eyes fixed on his partner and he spat his words like rotten meat at the other. "No. Of course not. Praise the Lord, the Great Theo is right again!"
From the drivers seat came a sigh and Theo looked over at his companion. He was used to the outbursts, the rage of a man who'd woken up one day to find that his victory was bittersweet and the world had long since passed him. "It's not '46 anymore Shane. You've got to understand that. We can find them...but your kids are likely grown with grandchildren of their own by now. And I doubt they'd recognize you anyway."
Brown eyes calmly met angry blue as the pair shared a stare and finally Shane looked away, an old man with a young man's body and a young man's temper. "I wish you'd left me there Theo. I wish you'd left me there..."
Theo stared for a moment longer, wanting to comfort, sensing that his partner didn't want to be touched now. Instead he turned the key and started the car, taking them away from the crumbling ruins of the house Shane had once lived in. "I'll help you if you want. I'll help you find them. I-I know what you're going through Shane, probably the only one who does."
Blue eyes flicked over, staring through a patch of strawberry blond hair. "Do what you want, it no longer matters." The answer of a young old man who sulked like a child.
With a sigh Theo realized it was going to be a long, long drive...
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And so it begins. New blood in old waters...
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Wed Feb 01, 2012 12:09 am; edited 20 times in total
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Mon Mar 01, 2010 6:48 am Post subject: |
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Lovin' this so far Rai!
Can't wait for the first chapter! 
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.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
 
 
  
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The White Blacksmith
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| Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 9:54 am Post subject: |
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Can't wait for this one, Rai!
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 11:38 am Post subject: |
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Definitely an interesting start. Some good descriptive writing, and an intriguing character... made young again?! Cool!
Happy Writing 
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Mar 09, 2010 11:15 pm Post subject: |
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Chapter One: Black Diamond
The rumble of the bike under him was felt in every molecule of his flesh yet went unheard over the blare of music through his headphones. Theo had set out to give him a crash course on how to be twenty-two years old in the year 2010. And Shane had to admit not everything was bad. Humanity had made some remarkable advances since he'd last walked the world back at the end of the Second World War. Hell man had gone to the moon! He still couldn't believe that one.
He eased back the throttle and the bike began to slow as he pulled to the side of the road. The sound of tires crunching gravel was audible as one song ended in that heartbeat before the next began. The bike at an idle it canted to the side as one leg propped both machine and rider at a slight angle. Sky blue eyes stared through the polarized visor of his helmet at the sprawling metropolis below. It was hard to believe any of his children could have ended up in such a place as this. But Theo insisted that this is exactly where his youngest son had finally settled.
Ian always was a strange one. A cuckoo in the nest. It made sense that he'd end up in an unhealthy and toxic place like this. And Shane realized it was partly his fault. Without a father to guide and steady him through the rougher portions of his life, Ian had easily been led astray. But he thought he'd been doing the right thing at the time. He believed it in the bottom of his heart. But as the old adage went be careful what you wish for.
"I didn't wish to be Rip fucking Van Winkle." He turned his face away from the panorama, gunning the engine with a savage twist of his wrist. A rooster tail of rock and dust plumed up behind the back tire of the bike as it bit into the loose rock bits below it and Shane rocketed out of the lookout. Music pounded in his skull. Far louder and closer than ever would have been possible in his day. A miracle of modern sound technology. He was becoming quite well versed in such things...Theo was a good teacher.
Like computers. Shane had taken to them like a duck to water. He'd always been a slightly technical minded sort and so, with the help of several manuals and Theo's patient teaching, he'd managed to get a rather firm grasp on their workings and uses. He spent hours on the internet, surfing websites that dealt with everything from History to the latest Hollywood fads. He'd even mastered the lingo...mostly. Sometimes he still talked like an 'old timer' but deep down Shane felt that good grammar transcended generation. And he absolutely refused to say something as stupid sounding as 'Sup Dawg'.
He leaned into the curves as if he were caressing the road. The bike hummed along, easily navigating the sparse traffic at this hour of dusk. Why was he doing this? Theo had called him an old fool and Shane knew things couldn't...wouldn't go smoothly. He couldn't just knock on his son's door and tell the late middle aged man who answered 'Hello son, it's me, your long lost father.' He'd never be believed.
He parked the bike in a public lot and prayed it wouldn't be stolen. Theo couldn't be that right about things...there still had to be some decent people in the world. Although that was partly the reason he'd brought a bike and not a car. Motorcycles had a bad reputation in this modern world, the men who rode them considered 'dangerous outlaws'. Shane couldn't see why. Motorcycles had been a necessary vehicle during the war, capable of getting in and out of tight places and delivering messages quickly between commands. Even the damn Nazis had known that.
Boots thumped along on the pavement as the music drowned out the sounds of the teeming urban jungle. The visor up to remove the dark polarization as night fell and impeded his sight. Blue eyes fixed on the faceplate of his iPhone, a wonderful little gizmo that seemed to do damn near everything. Like a digital swiss army knife even though he still carried the regular version in his opposite pocket.
According to the information he'd stored there, Ian Sean O'Donnely lived at 2135 East Cambrey Street. Ian O'Donnely, born 1940 when his father was 45 years old...a late gift in life to Shane and his second wife Elizabeth. The youngest of four, Ian had always been the most mischievous of his boys. Was it any wonder that he'd had trouble with the law? "My fault...should have been there son."
But he hadn't been. He'd answered an add in the classifieds and had gotten in over his head. He'd scoffed at first...eternal youth, who was that guy trying to kid. But he'd seen it, with his own eyes he'd seen it. And once the validity of the man's statement had been proven Shane hadn't resisted. "But nobody mentioned a god damn thing about waking up sixty years in the future in the body of a damn kid!"
He wasn't really paying attention to the world around him just following his feet and the little map on his iPhone. So he missed the transition from tenant housing to battered and rundown homes with overgrown yards and fences that grinned gap-toothed as a six year old. When he finally did look up, the little dot pinging and proclaiming his destination, he was appalled.
The home before him was little better than the ruins he'd left six months ago. Perhaps the main difference was the lack of boards covering the door and windows, the lack of a condemned sign. The fence was rotten and falling in on grass knee high with weeds. The paint had long ago all peeled away and the wood below was stained with mold. The windows were clogged and clouded with dust and oily smudges from the hands and faces of those that dwelt within. The porch was a minefield of missing boards and saggy soft spots just waiting to snap the unwary ankle.
This...this was where his youngest lived? "He's not so young anymore Shane. He's an old man now...70 years old." Perhaps the only one of his children alive. If Ian was 70...that would put Patrick at 82 and Meg and Sean Jr at 88. He had to pause a moment and blink furiously to remove the tears from sky blue eyes. He could still remember it as clearly as yesterday. Being a 27 year old widow with two brand new babies just as the Depression hit. He'd been lucky to find Elizabeth after Amy had died, luckier still that she'd given him two strong sons.
He just couldn't believe that any of his children had ended up like this. "I thought I taught them better. Taught them to look out for each other." He'd have thought that Sean Jr and Meg would have looked after their little brother. They were 18 years older than Ian, one would think... "It all comes back to being my fault. I-I should just go."
He turned, tucking his iPhone away as he thumbed it for the next song, trying to find something that would make him feel better. The next thing he knew he was sprawled on the pavement, an automatic response to the gunfire that had erupted from the ruined house. "AND STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY PROPERTY TOO PUNK!"
He risked a glance over his shoulder as soon as the combat response wore off, blue eyes going wide. An old but fit man stood in the doorway with a .45 clasped in one hand. The gun was kept aimed at the ground but the hard blue gaze of the elderly wielder never wavered. "You just take your sorry trouble causin' ass away from here. I don't need any more of your kind hanging out and damaging my property. You helmeted hooligan, I'll give you to the count of three to be gone."
Shane's brain scrambled. He doubted that he'd get gunned down in the street by an elderly male that couldn't possibly be his son. And the reaction afterward, when Shane didn't lie bleeding and screaming in the street. He'll have a heart attack if he shoots me, dear god. Welcome to the wrong side of the tracks Shane. What the hell are you going to do about it?
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 3:56 am Post subject: |
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Good chapter Kalanna.
You've got a lot of explanaton here, but keep the plot moving forward enough for it to not get bogged down.
Go to sleep at 40-50 something, wake up 60 years later as a 20-something. Sounds like a fine deal to me, sign me up ;-)
The one thing I think you've missed a little in your explanation is a description of his new body. I would have thought that'd have been some of his main focus even before learning about music and the internet. Perhaps having hair again, or atleast hair without some grey in it. Maybe spend a few days climbing trees, and jumping over fences and other such things perhaps lost. That is the common aim from a 'fountain of youth' type situation - to re-experience what has been lost. And then later perhaps looking to right some past wrongs.
Just a minor thing though - in general, you get across the feelings well. His confusion over the lack of respect for the bike, the love of the iphone and internet. All good stuff. I doubt he'd be that keen on the music, but stranger things have happened ;-)
~
So what to do... Standing very slowly, and removing my helmet seems a good starting point, perhaps before tentatively calling out 'Ian?'... just to be sure it isn't him. 70 year olds look a lot different from 10 year olds ;-) Holding hands up just to help appear un-'punkish' might help too.
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The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic Herd!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 5:47 pm Post subject: |
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Smee you raise valid points but I've actually got you covered on this one. Physical appearance will be covered in an upcoming chapter, the next most likely. And the recapturing of the lost will also be covered. But I'm attempting to keep chapters in this one far shorter than my others. So details are being carefully doled out as we go.
As for his liking music...who knows what he was listening to? Could have been classical. *grins*
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"Music makes you braver."
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 11:29 pm Post subject: |
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| For the DP I'd say act calm, and say 'Put down the gun', or something like that. See whether the man recognises his voice.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 6:37 pm Post subject: |
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The first poll is active and will run for three days. Submit your votes to decide how Shane handles this situation.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Mar 21, 2010 1:48 pm Post subject: |
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Polling is over, has resulted in a tie. The new chapter will be released in the next two days for all those interested.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 1:15 am Post subject: |
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Chapter Two: Someday
Theo was tapping away at his computer when he heard the familiar noise of the bike engine rumbling through the walls and into his skull. A small smile flicked over his features, mischievous and secretive without intentionally meaning to be so. Slowly he turned in his chair, the springs squealing slightly as he did so, in time to see his partner come through the door with a thunderous bang. For a moment the leather clad figure just stood there staring through the cracked visor of his helmet. Theo didn't even flinch when Shane ripped the helmet off and hurled it into the corner of the room. "I take it that it didn't go well?"
Shane snorted derisively while blue eyes like the summer sky seared across the room and attempted to strip the bones off his partner with nothing more than sheer force of will. "Oh of course not, the great and mighty Theo once again knew all and saw all." He flopped himself on the counter and propped dusty boots up on the arm of the couch, sprinkling the immaculate upholstery with the soil of the road. "I shouldn't have gone...I should have just left him alone." The rage and fury seemed to deflate out of him with a single sigh, shoulders crumpling. "He's a frightened old man now Theo. Scared of the neighborhood gangs, scared of getting old...he shot at me..."
Theo followed the finger that pointed to the final resting place of the helmet and took a good long look at the damage. And damned if Shane wasn't making sense. What Theo had at first mistaken for crash damage was, in fact, where a bullet had grazed the curve of the crash proof material. Sending cracks like the web of a manic spider across the mirrored visor and shearing the paint off. "Jesus Christ Shane, what the hell did you do! Just walk up and say 'Hello sonny, it's dad, and sorry about the long time gone?' Holy Mary mother of God this is what we try to avoid!"
"Quit blaspheming, no call for it. And no Theo, I have some tact, give an old soldier some credit." Shane rubbed the stubble along his jaw before fingers moved up into pale hair, testing the tender spot on his head and wincing against the pain that never came. "I walked up and he came out with a gun pointed at me so I tried to talk him down, just like they always teach us to do. At first I kept my hands in the air and just calmly talked to him. When that wasn't working I started to remove my helmet and damned if he didn't take a shot at me!" He switched positions on the couch now, feet on the floor while hands dangled between his knees and head hung from hunched shoulders.
"I've been through two World Wars Theo, had brains and blood and gore splattered all over me. I've watched men who were my friends, closer to me than any brother, just disintegrate under the blast of a grenade or rot to death from the feet up in a trench full of frozen waste. I've seen men choking on mustard gas and the sharks feeding on wounded men who went into the damn water instead of a raft." With a visible shake he pulled himself away from those images, raising old eyes to Theo. "And not one of those images has horrified me as much as today, watching an old man who was once my six year old son leveling a pistol at my head and calmly squeezing the trigger."
Theo didn't quite know what to say. For all his years and experience he'd never fought in a war and he'd never had a family. At least not one he'd wanted to reconnect with after he'd accepted his part of the Bargain. He eased out of his chair with a creak and crossed the floor, sitting down next to the other and slowly looping an arm over his shoulders.
Slowly Shane raised his hands, flexing them, turning them over and over. "When Ian last saw these hands do you know what they looked like? My skin was beginning to spot, my knuckles were swollen with the bone twist...arthritis that was setting in quickly. My muscles were slowly being covered in a layer of fat that I couldn't just work off, I had a paunch that constantly disappointed me every morning and twiggy limbs. Like all the mass from my arms and legs was draining into my belly. I was only fifty-one and my eyesight was going, my hearing wasn't as sharp as it had been...everything was starting to ache and pop and slow down."
Again Theo was at a loss. He hadn't been an old man when he'd accepted the bargain, he'd just been lost and adrift in the world that had no place for him. That hated his kind and everything about them. "Shane, is being young really so bad? I remember that first week...you were a madman, I couldn't keep up with you."
They both shared a grin at that and Theo felt hopeful as he felt Shane shrug him off, blue eyes sparkling a bit. "Alright, so I do enjoy it. I enjoy being the me I remember again. Hell when I was twenty-two the war was ending. I was in Paris when they signed the Armistice, did you know that? Just like all the other dough boys in our little tin hats. We'd survived misery, hard misery, years of it, all for a few scribbles of ink on a piece of paper."
He stood, removing himself from Theo's reach, turning and spreading his arms wide. "And I'm just as fit now as I was then...fitter actually. I can run and jump and swim and swing through the damn trees like Tarzan the Ape Man if the mood so takes me. I have all of these gadgets and such at my fingertips just waiting for me to pick up. I should be happier than a hog in mud. And for that first week I was...soon as the heart attack wore off. Lemme tell you I was more than mystified to wake up in that cafe in the ill-fitting suite of a heavier, older man. I didn't even remember my face being my face...but you know that. Why am I telling you this? What's my point? My point is I'm not happy at all Theo. I don't know why you made your bargain but I know why I made mine. For my family. They didn't need an aging, creaking, crusty old soldier. They needed a father with energy and enthusiasm, someone who could get out there and go and put food on the table."
And he collapsed, like the wind had gone out of him. "Instead...I got the selfish man's hearts desire. I look in my mirror every morning to see me in my glory days. Hair's thick again, no silver, no bald spot. Eyes are clear again, vision's clear again, hearing's sharp again. No wrinkles, no sagging jowls, no paunch...flat stomach again. I have muscles, my lungs don't burn when I run, my joints don't pop when I move and I can roll coins on my knuckles again. With a little effort I could have any one of those loose moraled girls out there and you know what? It leaves a fucking sour taste in my mouth because I gave up every gorgeous thing I had for this shallow victory. I left them. Left them flat. I did the worst thing I could have Theo...and all I wanted to do was right by them."
He left Shane alone for a bit, sensing it was all he could do. Theo stood, wandering into the kitchen to get lunch from the battered old refrigerator that had probably been in the apartment since the late sixties. He didn't remember to replace things often, preferring to keep in tune with technology by fixing it. Theo had counted it a stroke of luck that Shane was into gadgets and technology almost as much as he was. On good days the two of them got along very well...on days like this Theo was at a loss. Despite being a good forty years older than the other...he hadn't gone through half as much. The civil war was more his era and Theo had only been a baby for that. And he'd managed to avoid the wars that had rolled across the nation after that, avoiding the draft and all the other odds and ends that had come his way.
Staring at his wobbly reflection in the polished chrome handle of the icebox, the mulatto sighed. He just didn't have the roots that Shane had...he hadn't felt as disconnected as the other did now. The Irish...they had a strong sense of family in his experience. So with a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches in hand and a pitcher of lemonade standing by, he braved the living room and his partner's stormy attitude again.
"Well Shane, I don't really have any advice for you. I'm just going to keep saying what I've been saying...hunting them down is a bad idea. For you and for them. For them...they're not going to believe you. Hell who'd believe a story like ours? Yes we met Death, capital D, and had a nice chat and then we made a deal that would change our lives. That's right, immortal youth, reverse aging to the point you liked the most. Or in my case just freeze me as I was." He set the sandwiches down, keeping two for himself as he stared at the other. "For you...they're not the wife and kids you left. They didn't freeze in time like you did. So it's just heartbreak after heartbreak for you, one more headstone to go visit and shed tears on."
Shane stared at the sandwiches for a moment before looking up at the other. "You don't understand Theo. I have to make it right. Someday...somehow..."
Theo shrugged. "Damn stubborn fool fine. I don't know why I'm helping you destroy yourself but hey, it's your immortality. You've got to live with yourself forever. You want a place to start making it right? Well here, you've already visited Ian...only one other of your children is still alive Shane." Standing, reaching around the other, he made a few quick keystrokes and then turned the computer chair around so that Shane could read the screen. "Megan Cartwright as she's called now. She's getting on in years, but still a sharp lady. Still lectures now and again. Wrote a rather popular book...all about you as a matter of fact, and what might have happened to you. She'll be in town next week, giving a lecture on, surprise, the 1940's and the conflict known as World War II."
Shane's blue eyes drank in the information, made mechanical and distant by the electronic reflection that lightened their normal hue. "Fate throwing me a bone? I screwed up so badly talking to Ian..."
"Won't know until you try. I seriously doubt that your girl is a pistol packing grandma though. She seems a much more dignified lady than her younger brother...besides. She doesn't have the post traumatic stress disorder from 'Nam that Ian did. But it's your call Shane, I never said you had to go right up to her and talk to her. There's got to be another way to salve your mind, ease your soul, do her a good turn that doesn't result in broken hearts."
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What choice would you make in Shane's situation? Put yourself in Shane's shoes and brainstorm.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 2:55 am Post subject: |
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Well, she seems to be the easier option. Ian was only six when he last saw his father, he'll likely have not made the connection before pulling the trigger, and even if he did, the shock and disbelief at having clocked what he was seeing would have probably made him squeeze the trigger anyway. That was never going to work.
She's older, too, which means she'll have clearer memories of how he was. Walking right up to her and talking to her might not be such a good idea, though. It might just give her the heart attack that would finish her off.
Ladies of her generation still like to communicate by letter. So, write her a letter. A sort of 'You're not going to believe this but I'm still alive' message. She'll recognise the handwriting, for sure. But I think it would be wise to build up to this meeting, through letters, phonecalls, etc. anything that will break the fact to her gently that he's still only in his 20's.
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 3:07 am Post subject: |
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A good chapter, Kalanna. I liked the quirky way of responding to the poll, using a kind of flashback to show how both options were used. Cleverly done.
I'm going to suggest a slightly more direct method than Crunchy's, but perhaps not as direct as we tried before.
I say, go to this lecture, listen to it, learn about our daughter from the way she lectures. Then, when it comes to question time at the end, ask some penetrating questions that may let her catch on that for a twenty-something we sure know more than we should. Chances are this will intrigue her enough to be willing to talk with such an 'extraordinarily young scholar' after the lecture, and we can take it from there.
Happy Writing
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 3:18 am Post subject: |
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This Storygame is now stickied, and eligible for the next Spotlight competition.
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 12:09 pm Post subject: |
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Great second chapter, Kalanna! Sorry I missed the last poll.
I agree with Smee. Go to the lecture, and find out what kind of person she is. That would make it easier to decide how to approach her with his revelation, or if he should at all.
There is a chance that she may recognise him as looking like her father. Maybe he could use this to get closer to her. Maybe tell her that her father got married again after he disappeared, and that he is a long lost greath nephew, or something. Even if he doesn't reveal the truth to her, it will put him in a position, where he can do something to make up for what he did to her all those years ago.
Looking foward to chapter 3!
_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Apr 05, 2010 10:16 pm Post subject: |
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The poll is up. It will run for three days. And then I will close it and begin work on chapter three.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Apr 08, 2010 9:34 pm Post subject: |
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The pole has closed on another tie. I will be getting the next chapter underway shortly, look to see the new installment before the weekend is over.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Apr 11, 2010 3:39 am Post subject: |
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Chapter Three: New Divide
Watery blue eyes swept across the paper again as manicured nails with their soft taupe polish scraped along the words. As if she were a blind woman reading by the indentations of them alone. It couldn't be and yet it was. Something she'd never expect to see again and yet couldn't deny the existence of. A letter. A letter from her father.
The handwriting was as she remembered it, right down to the funny little loop he always did with his lower case 'g'. She'd compared it to other letters of his she still had, the ancient brittle pages handled as though they were the key to world peace. And she couldn't deny that they were the same. Down to the littlest details. And that was something no forger or fake could have accomplished. She'd never reprinted images of the letters, only the words they contained.
She could hear his voice, speaking to her clearly, as she read it again. That mellow voice, the faintest hint of a brogue buried deep in it's roots. The words he'd chosen, the turn of phrase, she could picture him sitting in the chair across from her and saying every one of them.
Dearest Meg,
Always my shrewd child, my discerning child. You will want proof before you believe a word on this page. When you were six Elizabeth made you a little gingham dress with china blue flowers. You loved that dress from morning till night, you'd have worn it to bed had you been allowed. One would have thought that a family member had died the day that your brother caught hold of you and forever stained it with the jelly on his fingers. But we saved it, for many years we saved it. And when you were sixteen Elizabeth made you a quilt of it. Do you still have that quilt my lass? With the jelly stained square in the center of the pattern?
Ah my sweetheart how the years have passed and I cannot but ache at the hurt my absence in them may have caused. I wish I could say that it was not my doing but the responsibility is mine, although accidental. I only wanted to make life better for you, for the family. I was getting old Meg my darling and an old man could not provide for you as well as I once had.
And you married the Cartwright boy, ah my Meg always so stubborn. Perhaps had I been there I could have persuaded you, stopped you, prevented that pain that you endured. He never was any good lass, only good looking, the worst kind of devil and the kind I always sought to protect you from. I count it as a blessing and a sign from God that your years together were as brief as they were. And forgive an old soldier his opinions if they are wrong.
Meghan, it's hard to write this. It'll be hard to read it as well. But I want to meet you, to see you again. I'm not a hoax or a sham and this isn't a flim-flam to pull the wool over your eyes. And I'm willing to prove it, to lay everything out for you. If you so choose you can ignore this letter, ignore my offer, and forever chalk it up as a cruel attempt to fool a grand dame. Or you can show me that inquisitive spark, that agile mind that always confused her old man.
I've listened to you speak. I enjoy listening to you speak. You keep an old soldier's mind sharp with your questions and I can only hope to provide you with answers. Although I suppose you could give me advice now, for all that I should be older you are the one who's amassed the wisdom of age. Not I. But I would like to see and so here is my offer. An end to the search.
If you want to know what happened I sorely want the chance to explain. And while you won't believe this take this letter as proof that there is an extraordinary explanation to be had. My sweetheart when next you speak again I will be there and I shall ask you a very simple question. My Meghan do you still love me?
No matter what answer you give, this is mine. I love you Meghan and I always will.
Da
A knock at the door brought her out of her reverie, the polite young woman in the suit staring around the edge of the pale wood. "Mrs. Cartwright, they're ready for you." Such a young, soft voice, considerate of the age of the presenter.
Meg restrained a laugh. She was, to quote what could be her father's words, a grand dame. But she wasn't made of crystal and she wasn't going to shatter. Not yet anyway. With the popping of a few bones she stood, making her way with slow grace out onto the stage and taking her seat behind the podium. That was a concession to age, she simply couldn't stand that long anymore. Well preserved she might be but a spring chicken? Hardly.
Though the soft lights around the edge of the stage washed out Meg's view of the audience they only made her more visible to those seated below her. And one pair of eyes in particular were fixed in rapt attention. The shade of blue was an almost exact match but the eyes themselves lacked the watery touch of age. They were clear and bright and filled with a deep and broken sorrow.
Shane listened to his daughter speak. He listened to the voice that had once been a sweet and as clear as a silver bell now coated with the dignity of age. He could see in this aged woman images of his grandmother and his mother in her later years. But he could barely reconcile the image with his bubbly daughter. He couldn't, in his mind, turn that beautiful red hair white. He couldn't add the wrinkles, make the skin as delicate as parchment. He couldn't curve her spine and give her that slight hunch, couldn't raise the spiderwebs of veins on the back of her hands. Yet time could and time had. Shane's will was little respected in this.
He spoke with her, one of only a few in the audience to do so, and he watched the way her eyes seized on him. They weighed him, considered him, then discarded him. He wasn't the person she was looking for now. He was worthy of attention, worthy of merit, she perhaps liked his mind. But obviously he wasn't the one. At least not to her thinking.
As the crowd thinned, the lecture over, Shane really couldn't recall what had been said or discussed. He vaguely remembered correcting her about a few of the Murrow broadcasts, small things that had perhaps slipped her mind during the course of a lifetime. For him...they were fresh, recent, some less than a year old. For her...they had long been gathering the dust of memory. But that hadn't much been his concern either. She had.
And now was the time. She was obviously waiting for someone. The way she shuffled her perfectly organized papers, as if looking through them for something forgotten. The way her eyes flicked over the crowd. She was going to stay, to wait for him. And he couldn't let her down again. And so he steeled his courage and said a prayer to the Holy Mother. He did manage to refrain from crossing himself...just barely.
He saw the way her eyes sized upon him, caught and held him. The flash of hope followed swiftly by disappointment was crushing. It was a sharp dagger to the ribs. But he wasn't dead and he wasn't dying. He just wanted to make things right. He paused in the same place he always did, at the foot of the stage, where the lights would cast strange shadows upon his features and their light would blur her vision.
"Yes young man, how can I help you? Is there something else that I can do for you? I think you might be a better scholar of the Murrow broadcasts than I am, while I remember listening to them human memory is flawed. I can certainly look up more information on them, and I will, for my next engagement though."
Her voice, so dignified, so calm. Not a trace of impatience, as if she weren't waiting, as if her heart hadn't been beating just a hint faster. As if she hadn't gotten her hopes up at all. He took a deep breath and stepped up onto the stage lightly, crossing the line of lights for the first time. And her assessment of him changed instantly.
Now she knew, or she had an inkling, instinctive perhaps. Eyes widened, knuckles turned white as she gripped her podium tightly. He could almost hear the quickened beating of her heart. He licked his lips before smiling softly, reaching out to gently cover one of her smaller hands with his. "My Meghan. Do you still love me?" Heart pounding in his chest he watched her worriedly, he couldn't fathom what was going on in her head. He had no way of answering the question that had worried him since he'd ensured his letter was delivered to her. How would she react?
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Wed Apr 14, 2010 4:23 am Post subject: |
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I lost the sense of time passing from the last chapter to this. We were making a decision on whether or not to go to the lecture or send a letter - the outcome was tied between the two and so I appreciate that he'd be doing both - but all of a sudden it seems that he's been frequenting her lectures a lot, whereas at the end of the last chapter, he has only just learnt that his daughter is still alive and lecturing.
| Quote: | | He paused in the same place he always did, at the foot of the stage... |
Still, to the DP.
Difficult to know what is going on inside her head, indeed. She is not going to make the connection that the young man standing in front of her is her father, because so far she doesn't have any proof - other than perhaps a childhood memory of the way her father looked when she was a child. As she says herself, human memory is flawed, and from what I can glean of her character, she's not the sort to explore a hunch on a whim.
But the fact that she received a letter, and that he has said some personal things that she would only expect to come from her father, might convince her not to just turn her back on him and go.
I think her reaction would be one of hedged bets - not to acknowledge, but to invite more information.
Therefore, I think her reaction would be along the lines of: 'Is this some kind of joke?'
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Wed Apr 14, 2010 3:59 pm Post subject: |
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Another good chapter, Kalanna!
Considering her age, the shock could give the old girl a heart attack or something... But I'm not going to say that, that's just mean...
Though I do not think that she would believe that he was her father, just from the sheer impossibility of it, to her mind, she does seem to recognise him. I say the shock causes her to faint. Though she seems like a strong woman, and even though she was prepared to see her father again after all these years, she certainly wasn't expecting this.
Lookin' forward to the next chapter!
_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
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Smee
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| Posted: Mon Apr 19, 2010 11:44 pm Post subject: |
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An enjoyable read, Kalanna.
I liked the way you incorporated yet another tie, and got straight down to the meat of the chapter.
The letter is well written, you can hear the voice of a proud but sad father - his voice bubbling over with thoughts wanting to be expressed, whilst trying to remain eloquent.
And I like the character of Meg. You established her quickly, but well.
Trying to think of an alternative for the DP, I'm thinking Crunchy's 'Is this a joke?" is accurate, and perhaps might also save you from yet another tie.
Happy Writing
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Apr 20, 2010 8:01 pm Post subject: |
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Poll will run for three days. Voting will close at that time and work on the new chapter will begin.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 12:03 am Post subject: |
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Sorry for the delay all. Not only has RL given me a bit of an issue lately I'm trying to wrap my mind around the perspectives of a strong willed 92 year old and her now 25 year old regretful father.
I do promise you a chapter soon so if you've forgotten this one, please remember it.
(Suggestions are helpful too.)
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Smee
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| Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 12:17 am Post subject: |
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Not forgotten - looking forward to seeing this one continue.
Happy Writing
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Jun 26, 2010 3:01 pm Post subject: |
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Here you are everyone, the long awaited chapter. I apologize in advance not just for the long wait but if it's not up to par, I just have a hard time putting myself in Meghan's shoes. Enjoy.
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Chapter Four: My Sacrifice
For a moment the silence held, two pairs of blue eyes locked against each other as one waited and the other recovered from an impossible shock. Then Shane could almost watch as Meghan mentally shook herself, pulling her hand back as her face moved into the disapproving lines of the scolding Grandmother. "Is this some kind of joke young man because I assure you I don't find it funny. Who sent you? You have to be one of my nephew's brood, was it your father? Your grandfather?"
He blinked quietly in surprise, he might have expected her to think he was a joke...but he didn't expect her to automatically blame the family. Then again his eldest son had looked quite a bit like him, perhaps that had carried down through the years. Perhaps it wasn't such a leap after all. "The family teases you about it? About your search for me? What proof would you want, would you need, to believe me."
She'd pushed off of her seat while he spoke, gathering her papers with a swift movement. The look she gave him was absolutely withering, a look he'd seen many times from his mother, a few from his grandmother. And he'd be damned if his own daughter's look didn't provoke the same response in him that both of those others had. He felt beyond guilty and that was before she spoke. Her words only made it worse. "There is no proof you could give to make me believe this ridiculous farce any further. You should be ashamed of yourself young man, preying on an older woman like that. Is it wrong that I want to know what happened to my father? I have not believe he was alive in years but I would enjoy having closure. Can you not understand that?"
Shane had never handled guilt well. While she spoke he followed behind her, fishing through his wallet and pulling out three photos. Like him they had been preserved, everything he'd had with him that day had been. Now he thrust them forward, his hand shaking slightly with both futile anger and his own shame. "Can you not understand my need to explain? I have been a victim and willing accomplice of the fantastic. You don't understand how I feel at all Meghan. I tried to do the right thing and instead I ended up abandoning you. My own fear and vanity were my own undoing."
The woman snorted, turning to him to say something else, and stopped as her eyes caught sight of the photos in hand. They were old, unspeakably old. They had not been renewed, as Shane had, merely preserved. They were not black and white but that ancient tone called sepia, a mixture of cream and gentle browns. At the time they had cost Shane a small fortune to have done but he'd been on top of the world, a young soldier with a young bride and a bright future in one. A widow and yet proud father in another. The third a picture of his new wife and his three children, two toddlers, one a new infant.
They were the three photos that Shane had always kept near and dear, photos that had been in the trenches with him in two cases, photos that had traveled the globe with him in others. They were the faces he'd stared as he'd fallen asleep, wondering if he would wake. Faces he'd stroked with trembling fingertips and whispered his love to when he was sure the Germans or the Russians or the Turks or the Italians would end him. They were the only photos of his first wife, Brianna, and baby photo of his twins. And Meghan couldn't stop staring at them. These she remembered. "W-where did you get these..."
"I never left home without them. I kept them in this." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, the leather preserved and butter smooth with it's age, his initials tooled into it. "You used to give me a wallet every year for Christmas because you were the only one that ever seemed to realize that I enjoyed practical gifts, aside from Elizabeth that is. The boys never really got me anything, they just put their names on what you and your mother bought for me. And they always thought I didn't know." He chuckled slightly at that, offering the wallet out to her.
She took it and the pictures, holding the photos as one might the Holy Grail, were it found, opening the wallet gently. Inside was a driver's license with Shane's current photo and doctored information, courtesy of Theo and his 'connections'. But just behind that were the documents he'd had in it that fateful day. A grocery list, his base id. One of those social security cards, faded and folded bills, a ticket stub for a Dodgers game he'd taken his youngest son to.
She looked at him, then back at the wallet, then back at him. "I-I..."
Gently he reached out and took her hands, guiding her off Stage and into a comfortable chair away from prying eyes, taking up the one near her. "I'm not a monster. I'm not some heartless bastard playing a horrible joke on you. I realize what I've done isn't right my Meg and I realize that you're just not going to believe it no matter what I say and do. It's too fantastic, I doesn't happen to everyday rational people. But it did happen to me, and it's happened to others, and it will happen again."
She looked at him, aged eyes hurt and confused. "There's no explanation for this. there's no possibility and no logic. This is...impossible."
He nodded. "Remember the story of Rip Van Winkle? Now imagine that twenty years were more like sixty and instead of aging...he grew younger." He cocked his head at her. "There are things in this world we cannot explain. There are miracles and monsters and strange happenings every day. Do you want me to explain Meg? Are you willing to listen, to believe in something other than science and logic long enough to realize that I'm not crazy and I'm not joking? Otherwise I will simply give you closure. I'll tell you where I died...or rather where I didn't and you'll never have me bother you again. The choice is yours my Meg."
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So, here is a question for all of you that not only influences the story but shapes the character. Are Meghan's mind and beliefs flexible enough to hear him out and begin to accept him or shall he just go away and take the world of the fantastic with him?
Hope you liked.
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Masterweaver
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| Posted: Mon Aug 16, 2010 3:00 pm Post subject: |
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In my opinion, Meg has a firm pillar of logic and science in her mind and what has just happened is that it has been hit with a battering ram. So I say she backs off for.... a day or three, and just locks herself away.
And THEN she listens. Not automatically believing, probing for inconsistencies and explanations, but at least listening.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Aug 24, 2010 1:31 pm Post subject: |
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Thanks for your suggestion MW. I'd pretty much written this one off as a dud.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Tue Aug 24, 2010 4:10 pm Post subject: |
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Dud as in don't bother to start reading because it won't be finished 
/me tiptoes back to the archives...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Aug 25, 2010 5:02 pm Post subject: |
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 It'll be finished when and if I get more suggestions Igro. Feel free to browse and look around.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Wed Aug 25, 2010 5:26 pm Post subject: |
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Ok thanks.
I'll add this to my list of SGs to look at once I get Lebby's new competition out of my mind...
EDIT: Wow that is a tough DP this time!
It's been a very interesting read and I'm glad I've caught up on this series.
Now I need to think about the DP some more...
EDIT 2: Hmm about the DP... At 92 her first thoughts are probably that someone found her Dad's dairy and wallet. She is probably going to be demanding to know where they were found and wanting to read them herself.
I think she is interested in him more from a standpoint of he has access to information as to what happened to her Dad and is running an elaborate scam. I don't think she will believe him without further proof.
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Sat Sep 04, 2010 11:09 pm Post subject: |
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Not a dud by any means, Rai - it's good and original, and with just a handful of relatively short chapters it is still at the stage where potential new readers can easily catch up. You know the most effective way to encourage them to seek it out and participate.
For the DP I tend to agree with MW's comment, I think that would be the most 'in character' choice. Inside she would probably want to believe, and I think curiousity would get the better of her after being in denial for a few days.
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Fri Sep 10, 2010 4:06 am Post subject: |
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Another option - since the character is still in the process of being moulded, she might consider dismissing him, and then hiring a P.I.
Could be interesting.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2010 10:21 am Post subject: |
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New poll. Votes are appreciated.
_________________
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Fri Sep 17, 2010 2:43 pm Post subject: |
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Well I voted for demanding the information straight out but I also strongly considered the option for hiring a PI.
I guess I'm tending to thing that the demanding information and hiring a PI aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.
If she doesn't like what she hears (and it would certainly take some convincing to change her mind) she could always hire a PI.
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Sun Oct 24, 2010 4:06 pm Post subject: |
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Hmm.
I feel the need to kick something to get some more votes in here.
A two way tie with only two votes is just too sad 
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 5:48 pm Post subject: |
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Heh... tie breaker! I feel she'd be too stunned to be thinking so cereberally as to consider the hiring of a PI now, though the idea does bear some merit along the way. In otherwords, no matter how 'open' she might believe her mind to be, she'll always be doubting this and will likely, in secret, go on to hire a PI later.
For now, however, the immediate resistances apply and the obvious lines of questioning should immediately come to the forefront.
BTW, I'd always wanted to catch up to this one. Thanks for the kick Ingro!
Rai... wow. This is amazing work! I don't think I've ever seen such a sophisticated and powerful writing style from you. Completely professional level work here with but the slightest of editing. And deep... really deep! I'm loving this thoroughly and will be quite frustrated if you give up on this one. Reminds me a bit of the Captain America origins but has a definite differentiation as well. Lookiing forward to more from you on this! (And you've kept the chappy length quite swallowable throughout.)
I just can't praise this work enough and I apologize for allowing you the feeling of dissapointment in its creation by not having caught up so far. I only hope others might read this post and desire, as a result, to give this a read as well.
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 CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...  
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Smee
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| Posted: Thu Oct 28, 2010 11:12 pm Post subject: |
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It's taken me quite a while, but caught up I have. I always liked this one from the beginning, I'm glad it hasn't faded entirely.
The story is one of the fantastic and like TB's own, the fantastic within the ordinary stirs up a lot of potential for good storytelling.
I look forward to more.
Happy Writing
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Nov 30, 2010 11:06 pm Post subject: |
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Sorry it's been so long, life got hectic on me. Enjoy!
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Chapter Five: Memories
For a long time she just sat there, staring at those photos, taupe nails against her lips. She was lost somewhere deep inside her mind, decades in the past. She was a little girl again, sitting on her Daddy's shoulders as she took in her first view of the sea. She was a tiny girl curled up in fear at the shouts and yelling outside their window, her knees under her chin, her blanket up to her nose. And there was her Daddy, an arm around her shoulders, telling her stories his mother had told him. She was a teenager watching her Daddy kiss Momma goodbye before pecking her on the cheek, ruffling her brothers' hair, and setting out for war again. She was a young woman, chasing after a boy that was nothing but trouble, and her Daddy just stood there listening to all the hateful words she vented toward him. And then he'd just kissed her on the forehead, settled his hat on his head, and announced to the house that he was going for milk.
And that was the last time anyone had seen him.
Now here was this young man, sitting there and staring at her with earnest eyes the color of a summer sky. Here was a young man, jaw shaded with strawberry blond stubble, watching her so intently. That same gaze that had watched her for so much of her life, that watchful, waiting gaze. The patient man that had taught her to ride a bike. The caring man that had laughed over the puppy she and her brother had been hiding under the kitchen sink.
"I'll ask you one last time young man, who are you? Where did you get these photos? Please...don't torment an old woman anymore." She stared at him, hands shaking as she put them in her lap. "I've played along with your joke but I need to know...I have to know."
Shane watched her for a moment, then pushed the photos toward her, slouching back in his chair. "I am no one miss. Your father is dead, here are the photos he'd have wanted you to have. And the closure too." Quietly he stood, extending his hand and grasping hers firmly, holding it professionally for a moment. Then he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Goodbye Meghan my dearest, I'll always love you."
And he slipped her grip and fled, slamming the doors open in his haste. Running full tilt into the rainy night beyond. Running as if the devil was snapping at his heels and the flames of Hell were licking at the hem of his coat. His grief, his rage, his sorrow...his helplessness. They gave wings to his feet as he hurtled blindly down the sidewalks.
If he ran into people he didn't remember it, if he encountered obstacles then he managed to blindly navigate them. He wasn't even sure when he'd found his bike and how he'd managed to drive it as far as he did. When it ran out of gas he simply left it propped against a nearby tree, walking through the rain without feeling it. Immune to the cold, untouchable by any disease, immortal in a world of mortality. He dropped to his knees in the mud of a clearing, beating the ground with useless fists, a futile gesture.
He'd had everything, everything worth having. And he'd thrown it all away for an old man's fears, an old man's vanity. Everything he'd ever valued, everything he'd ever loved. The gorgeous woman that had seen something special in a young widower, a beautiful woman that had seen two children without a mother and had taken them to heart as her own. His three sons, Shane Jr, Patrick, and Ian. The eldest too serious for his own good, the middle child born singing and destined for a life of musical achievement, the youngest a bundle of smiles and laughs. And his daughter, the pride of his heart and the light of his life, so like her dear departed mother.
He screamed at the storm, as if somehow the fury of one man would make nature reverse itself. Would echo back across the years and stop him from making his mistake. Hanging his head, hands limply resting between his knees, the upturned palms catching raindrops, he knew he could break the deal. It would be almost too easy. All he had to do was give up this life, give up the immortality. Death had sworn not to touch him in any way.
Not accident, nor injury. Not age nor disease. What would have claimed a normal man would merely bounce off Shane. His plane could crash in a ball of fire and he would walk out of the field unscathed, swim up from the heart of the ocean with only his clothes torn. He could be struck by lightning, lit on fire, shot or stabbed or poisoned...nothing could touch him.
But like any mortal he could give up his life. There had to be a way out of the bargain, Death had made that very clear. Otherwise there would have been naught but creatures like Shane and Theo, the immortal, the deathless. He stared uselessly at his hands for a time, contemplating it. He could hang himself, he had a belt and there were plenty of sturdy trees around. Or a bridge he could leap from nearby. Or even-
"It's a good thing I've been following you. You stupid, stubborn fool. Are all of you old Irish like this?" Theo's voice was a slap against his spiraling self pity, the mulatto's rough hands jerking him up off the ground and spinning him around. Theo's hazel eyes bored into him mercilessly. "You've been awake less than a year and already you're looking to walk out of the Bargain? Where's your spine man? Where's your pride? We all left things behind Shane. All of us."
Summer eyes met hazel and he shoved Theo away from him. "What did you leave behind huh? You've said more times than I can count that you didn't care a whit for your family, ye dinna give two shakes about the woman that bore you or the man that sired you!" His accent grew thicker as his anger grew. "Ye dinna give a care fer any save yerself!"
"That's not true Shane. I left things I cared about behind. But the way you tell it you left everything you cared about in the past. Tell me Shane, honestly, why did you sign the damned deal in the first place. You signed for youth, because you didn't think an old man could provide...but just how were you going to reconcile that with your precious family?! How Shane? Were you just going to walk home, a never aging young man? Would you have rather sat there and watched your wife and children wither away and die?! Could you have done that?! No...so why did you sign Shane. Why?"
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Well folks...why did Shane sign the Bargain? Was it truly with good intentions as he's claimed so far? Or was there another reason. A selfish reason. A dark reason. Or was his reason far more noble than we've yet guessed. Only you know.
----------------
Once again, sorry for the delay. I hope you Enjoyed.
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"Music makes you braver."
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Wed Dec 01, 2010 6:44 am Post subject: |
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Yes, enjoyed very much 
Surely anyone's reasons for such a thing would be complex. And if there were 'darker' reasons, they would likely be covered up by denial. If we're looking to have our character break some of that denial, surely he must admit that a simple fear of death would have been largely to blame. But this couldn't be the full truth of it. No one would make such a deal unless he felt himself too important to die. This means his ultimate justification would have to be that he felt he had something too important to offer the world to be a mere mortal. He must have felt better than most others, or more capable, more deserving, of an extended lifespan. Among other things, he might have had a secret desire to be young and desireable again. But to him, he probably deeply believes he had more noble intentions, as we've seen from his insistance that it was all about his family. Much of what would be disturbing him right now is the fact that he's being pressured to let go of this justification he's used for so long, must be realizing that there WERE deeper reasons than his 'ability to provide'. And whatever they are is likely to be replaced by another justification that had been present when he made the decision. Which would probably be that he felt he could offer so much to 'humanity' as an immortal. Whatever he believed that to be would be hard to speculate on given that we don't know the character from this angle yet.
I would also suspect that mortality must have been threatening him when he made the decision, some disease or threat of homicide, something to press him into a fear that his life would be ending prematurely soon.
I know this doesn't work well into a poll though
It's wonderful to have you back with us writing again Rai!
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Crunchyfrog
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| Posted: Sat Dec 11, 2010 11:12 pm Post subject: |
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Sorry it's been a while to get around to this one. Since the 30th RL has been havoc.
Difficult to weave in the reason for this into this now when we're very much in Shane's POV... so I think it will have to be a reason he'll never admit to himself, or else he was very drunk at the time and cannot remember. Or... amnesia has taken over the events surrounding his agreement to the bargain.
I'm going to go with having been coerced into it - and a lot of drink had been involved. I think that would fit in with his behaviour right now.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2010 7:41 pm Post subject: |
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The new year is coming and, if the voters turn out, then we'll be able to start it right with a brand new chapter.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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PopeAlessandrosXVIII
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| Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2011 6:36 pm Post subject: I Think...... |
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Well damn, I triple tied it! Gomen(sorry)!
Thi s really is deep, and makes me sad. I love the old theme of the story. The down side to making deals with death. Very Hitchcock of you. I can't imagine how aole he feels right now....My grandmother just died, so I'm really tuning into the family vibe.
I really think he's all for his family. Tossing aside any deep meaning behind the action, tieing a few on prolly just loosend an already set mind.
I can't wait to see more!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Jan 12, 2011 12:18 am Post subject: |
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Three way tie huh...let's see what I can do. *puts on thinking cap*
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Jan 13, 2011 10:18 pm Post subject: |
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Okay, so here's the chapter. Peruse, enjoy!
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Chapter Six: Knockin' on Heaven's Door
Shane stood there in the rain for a long moment, fists cocked, summer blue eyes glaring bolts of hate at the mulatto. Theo remained, arms folded across his chest, pale brown gaze serene. "Well Shane? Why did you do it? And don't give me the family bullshi-"
"Because I was drunk!" Shane's shout caught Theo unaware and he watched the Irishman run his hands through his hair, clutching at the strands hard enough to tear a few loose. Tormented summer blue eyes lanced into the soul of the older immortal as the younger just sad down in the mud, arms on knees, hands dangling free as the rain continued to pelt down on them.
For a long moment there was only silence between them, then finally Shane spoke in a low, harsh voice. "I had a wee fight wit mah daughter. She wanted to marry a no good bastard of a man, face of an angel ta hide the devil in his soul. Dinna matter what I said, she was so sure of herself. So ta get me out of the house before I did something rash, I was sent ta the store for milk."
Theo had already known part of this, but the fight was a bit of new light on old information. Putting his back against a nearby tree, he got comfortable as he watched his companion, listening as his voice slowly slid back toward normal as the accent he'd picked up in his anger faded away.
"I was just so angry, this wasn't the first time one of my children had done something stupid, but I just knew how bad this was going to be. I knew that if Meghan were to marry that no good Cartwright boy he'd hurt her. He'd destroy my beautiful girl. And he'd make sure to do it where I couldn't come and help her, because he wasn't entirely stupid. He knew damn well that if he hurt her when I was around, I'd kill the bastard. I should have anyway." Shoulders rose and fell in a helpless shrug. "But Meghan made it plain that I was just wrong and that she wasn't going to be 'bullied' by her father into giving up on the man she loved. By the time I walked out of that house she never wanted to see me again, didn't care if I never came home. I think that's why she was the most concerned with what had happened to me Theo, because of those words and thoughts."
The more Theo thought about that the more sense it made. The worst thing one could wish on a soldier was that they never came home and, considering that Shane had spent plenty of time in his life in situations where it was likely he'd die...Meghan must have more than a touch of her old man's temper. "So you went out for milk...and..."
"I never made it to the store. I saw an old friend, buddy of mine from back in Paris, and we stopped to talk. He offered to buy me a drink and I didn't turn him down. One drink turned into two, two turned into ten, the next thing I knew I was drunk and wandering home without the milk. I knew that 'Beth wasn't going to be to happy to her but I figured that I could explain and I'd promise to go get milk in the morning. Let me tell you Theo, I was really in a bad place right then. I was feeling my age, probably feeling more than my age, and the ghosts of old faces and old places were haunting me. I was so wrapped up in myself that I don't really know when I noticed you know who beside me."
You know who. Indeed Theo did and he shivered despite the fact he wasn't in the least cold. Death, with a capital D. The being responsible for ending all life, recycling the energy so that it could be used anew. Even all these years later, Theo could recall down to the smallest detail what the entity looked like. It was neither male nor female but took features from both. Tall, slender, skin tone pale but not in an unhealthy way, just in the manner of skin that has never seen the sun. Meticulously dressed in a spotlessly tailored dark blue suit, shoes shined to a high gloss. And yet, around it, there was this incredible sense of stillness, of tranquility. Of the ocean depths where no light reached.
"It spoke, in that voice, murmuring to me quietly as it took my elbow and guided me away from the busy streets. There was genuine concern in that voice Theo, it wanted me to sit down and rest a while. Sober up before I tried to head home. And it was making sense, it's requests were reasonable. I figured it was just some good Samaritan and that I was drunker than I'd thought. So I let it lead me into a building a little off the road, a health club or a gymnasium of such. I just remember all the clean tiles, the comfortable chairs, and the big pool. It sat me down and took my hat, talked about the weather and the economy...small talk. I remember apologizing to it, I was so ashamed it had seen me like this and what would 'Beth think about the impressions I was leaving on strangers. I don't remember how the conversation turned from there, I know I mentioned that I was enlisted, and that's when it asked me if I was afraid of dying."
Shane glanced up then, a satirical smile on his face, strawberry-blond hair plastered to his face by the rain. He spread his empty hands wide before letting them flop back to their original position. "Of course I was. I was an aging mad with a wife and four children to provide for, one of which was still a young kid at the time. My health was fading, there were all sorts of fears about the Commies and I knew that I'd likely be out of a job soon. How was I going to provide then? And what had I made of myself? Why had I survived when so many of the guys I'd known hadn't? So I told it the truth, told it everything, all those fears. And it made me an offer that I didn't understand at first, then didn't believe, then couldn't refuse. I stood up, shook hands with it, feeling just amazed that such an opportunity had come my way. Then it pushed me backwards into that pool and I don't remember a thing until-"
"Until I fished you out of that nasty little hole this spring." Theo wasn't even sure how he'd known he needed to be there, near the ruins of the old building, he just had been. In time to hear the noises and throw down the rope to the new immortal. A man who'd been given back his youth and shoved outside the world for more than sixty years in exchange. "Well, now I know how...but why Shane? What is the meaning of it all for you?"
"It was my family Theo, always, but in that mental state even though I knew perfectly well what I was agreeing to and the consequences it might have...the thought that I'd have to sit and watch my family die was not one that even registered. The thought I'd have to explain why I wasn't getting older didn't. And I certainly didn't expect to be a young man again. But it wasn't just them Theo. It was the thousands who died where I didn't, the hundreds of guys I knew, who's faces are burned into my brain. Like Jake Lerns who died when his foot rotted off in the goddamn trench or Micky Dempsy, who was just a kid, when he caught a Kraut shell in the stomach and splattered his body in so many pieces across that damned beach. Ken Longmont who laid down on a grenade so save the rest of our lousy lives. What about Ike Greely who lost his hands throwing a mustard gas canister back across no man's land just to die from gangrene? Those men...boys...they're all damned heroes. I'm probably the only one that remembers them as more than just a name, number, and date, more than just a headstone. I owe it to all of them I suppose, to keep moving as long as I can."
"So sitting out here in the middle of a rainstorm and contemplating killing yourself is somehow doing their memories honor? Take some advice Shane, chalk your family up as casualties of whatever war your fighting...but keep fighting. The losses have hit home this time, is it really time to fold up? You've only just gotten back in the battle."
Shane laughed, rolling his eyes at the mulatto's earnest words. "Don't even try and make war references Theo. You're a scholar, not a soldier, and you've told me so yourself many times." Slowly the Irishman heaved himself up off of the ground, slicking back his hair from his face, summer blue eyes staring at the other. "But, in a way, you are right. I needed to remember what I was doing here in the first place. Now I know what I have to do."
Theo watched for a moment as Shane walked past him before pushing off the tree to follow. He stood by as the Irishman collected his bike and began to walk along the road in the ever lightening rain. He jogged along for a moment, catching up to the other and glancing at him. "Wait Shane, what do you have to do?"
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So, what does Shane have to do? What is this new motivator in his life?
--------------------------
Hope you liked.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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PopeAlessandrosXVIII
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| Posted: Fri Jan 14, 2011 3:23 am Post subject: I Think...... |
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Well now, nice chappy, and fast, way to go!
Lessee.....Well, he's a man of action, and now that he can't die, I'd say start his own little protection of the country. Maybe become a one man spy operation, or a regular cop'd be nice too! He seems to really love his home, and family...By the way, I can't remember if any of his kids had grand kids. He could do the vampire thing and make it his imortal dutie to ensure all his mortal family members live t a ripe old age!
I saw several missplaced words, I don't have the brain power to pick them out right now, but I'd re-read it and find that extra 'Dont' and the and insted of an.
I really like this, keep'em commin' !
_________________
To Be A Knight
And my first Finished work Death Day
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2011 11:07 am Post subject: |
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I, too, am enjoying this. Real nice thorough characterization taking place here.
'With great power comes great responsibility'. Obviously we've reached the point where he recognizes this but we don't have a direct enemy. Therefore, both of the suggestions given by Pope sound along the lines of what I was thinking, unless we interject another historic memory or reference to give him some additional focus... something from the war perhaps... a loose thread to wrap up... an unresolved issue to take care of.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2011 4:56 pm Post subject: |
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I'm glad that folks like it. This one has been a little more challenging to me than my usual stories, especially writing Meghan's points of view and reactions. Stepping into the shoes of people many decades older than myself doesn't come naturally and I'm constantly trying to separate if that's how I would react from the actual reactions of the characters.
Also thanks for the input guys, the choices I've been getting have been great with flow and continuity even though some of the decision points have been less than stellar.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Mar 02, 2011 10:50 pm Post subject: |
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Good news everyone...there's a poll.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Mon May 30, 2011 5:28 am Post subject: |
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I also enjoyed reading the chapter and I like TBird's idea of another loose thread to wrap up.
*voted*
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My account may have been deleted but my completed SG is still there...
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Mon May 30, 2011 2:14 pm Post subject: |
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Oh, it would be very nice to see this one pick back up! Loving your writings these days Kalanna, when you do get around to it. And I've been surprised this hasn't gotten the attention it deserves either. So thanks on that Ingro for adding your readership to this deserving tale.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Mattheus
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| Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2011 8:05 pm Post subject: |
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| Well I've finally read through the whole story and must say that I have really enjoyed it. Looking forward to the next chapter, if there is one. Somewhat divided on which way to vote, maybe I should just close my eyes and point as all the choices are good ones.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 12:29 am Post subject: |
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*blinks sleepily from under pile of papers, slowly reaches for quill*
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 8:25 am Post subject: |
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I feel like a puppy wagging his tail! Muaddib AND Kalanna return both in one week? Too good to be true!
Much anticipating further writings on this thread Kalanna!
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Tue Aug 02, 2011 1:25 am Post subject: |
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And the much awaited seventh chapter. Enjoy!
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Chapter Seven: Float On
She was daydreaming again, her hands buried in the warm and sudsy water, automatically cleaning the dishes that were left over from lunch. Outside, bees droned on a lazy summer breeze that stirred the curtains and brought the scents of fresh cut grass and the roses under her window swirling under her nose. Somewhere down the street a neighbor had turned up their stereo and some catchy but forgettable tune was playing. Her foot tapped in time to the beat, hips swaying with the motion. Thus, when someone knocked on her door, it startled her with the force of an electric shock. Her hands jerked, sending suds and water flying, and she had to fumble to catch the dish before it shattered on the side of the sink.
It hadn't been a heavy impatient pounding, merely a tap instead, and yet it was so out of place. "Just a moment! I'm coming!" Hands were quickly wiped on the hips of her jeans before she pulled off her apron. Leaving the apron draped over the straight back of one of the nearby kitchen chairs, she headed for the front door. A quick peek through the peep hole revealed someone she didn't recognize. A young man with strawberry blond hair and eyes the color of the sky. He seemed rather content to cool his heels, his foot tapping along to the beat of that same song.
Stepping back, she opened the door with a smooth motion and smiled politely. "Hello there, what can I be doing for you?"
He seemed almost as startled by her words as she had been by his knock, surprising considering he'd been expecting a reply and she hadn't been expecting the knock. Giving a good chuckle at what could only be his own expense, he pointed to a handwritten cardboard sign she'd left in one of the porch windows.
"I'm here about the room. It is still available isn't it? If not then I'm rather sorry to bother you Miss and if you can just point me in the direction of the nearest place with a public phone I'd be ever so grateful, the battery in my cellphone has gone and died on me. Rather inconsiderate of it, but there you have it."
He had such a charmingly disarming smile and a refreshingly real air about him. He wasn't one of those 'homeboys' and he wasn't trying to act tough. He wasn't being mysterious, he was even holding out the cellphone for her to examine herself. That was a big change from boarders who just wanted to know the rate, the rules, and if meals were included.
"The room is still open, please come on in Mr..."
"O'Donnely, Shane O'Donnely miss."
She smiled a little more, stepping aside to usher him in. "Well, that explains the tint of accent in your voice. Or am I imagining things? My name is Sarah Whittaker, you can call me Sarah but please try not to be overly familiar."
He chuckled lightly, shifting the duffel bag on his shoulder and stepping inside, maneuvering deftly as only a man used to carrying luggage could. "No no, you're quite right. I'm only a generation removed from Ireland, I was actually born on a boat on the way over from it. Mother ignored all advice and well...I decided to come early. And I'll do my absolute best to keep things friendly formal Miss Sarah...is that alright?"
She smiled, shutting the door behind him, wiping her damp hands on her jeans again. "Yes, very much so thank you. If you'll just follow me into the kitchen, I was just doing the dishes. We can talk about the rate and the house rules there if you don't mind." Even if he did, her Grandmother had taught her to be polite but if she left those dishes much longer all sorts of things were going to be crawling into that warm water and calling it home. "So Mr. O'Donnely...what brings you to these parts?"
He settled himself in one of the chairs, handing her her apron with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Well Miss Sarah, I'm a bit of a historian concerning the two World Wars, thinking about writing a book. I came across a rather interesting story about a month back and have been chasing down leads on it. One of those leads led me to you. You are the Great-Granddaughter of one Ezekiel Whittaker are you not?"
She paused in her washing, turning a little bit and glancing back at him, a puzzled look on her pleasant features. "I would think that almost every story my Great-Grandfather ever told has already been printed up. He wasn't shy with them and he just had a way of telling them that made everyone listen." And listen they had, those stories had been suitably embellished, cleaned up, and published. Several had sold more than a million copies, all were still in print. Ezekiel Whittaker had been and still was a popular war-fiction writer.
"No ma'am. This story is one I never read in any of his books nor did I ever hear it told in any interview he gave. See, I first ran across it in some notes from an old soldier I picked up at an estate sale...and it went from there. I really got intrigued though for the simple fact that it involves a man with the same name as mine. Apparently, your Great-Grandfather packed one Sean O'Donnely across a mine-laden field, then carried him down a road for two days until they emerged from behind enemy lines."
Sarah had stopped washing now and was staring at the earnest looking young man in some confusion. "You've got to have him mixed up with someone else. My Great-Grandfather told some good stories and was in a few dangerous places...but really he embellished everything. I've done a little research and he was never in as much danger as his books made it seem to be."
Sean held up a hand, still smiling at her. "Bare with me here. I realize that it's an incredible tale, but everything I've found validates it. They were part of an airborne assault, regular guys who'd been handed a parachute, given a few instructions, and told they had to do it for their country. So they jumped. O'Donnely was an older fellow, he didn't land nearly as well as your Great-Grandfather, so your Great-Grandfather offered to carry him back to safe territory. What they didn't know at the time was that they'd overshot their drop by a good bit. Instead of being a few hours from Allied territory...they were two days."
Sarah was leaning against the sink now, head cocked to the side in earnest interest. "So...you're saying that my Great-Grandfather saved this man's life. And then didn't tell anyone about it? The best story he could ever have written and he just...kept his mouth shut? Why?"
Sean shrugged. "That I have no idea about. All I know is that apparently they lost track after that except for a letter O'Donnely sent your Great-Grandfather. Something about if his family ever needed help all he needed to do was ask. O'Donnely went missing after the war though, shortly before the war with Korea broke out. Left behind a wife and four children...his case is still a missing persons. Which means that your Great-Grandfather never did get to collect on that help. I just found the story so damned...intriguing that I came out here to ask you, Miss Sarah, was for permission to use that story. Also, I needed an ending for it, some sort of closure...so could you in your own words tell me what you think your Great-Grandfather might have asked for? If you can, that's alright...hey wait. If you can't maybe you could think of the best way to help yourself? You know, a descendants sort of thing."
She was flabbergasted, her mind turning a lazy and confused circle as she tried to puzzle through his words. "You want me to try and think of what my Great-Grandfather would have asked this guy with your name for? You're a little touched Shane, pardon me for saying it."
Again he gave that disarming smile, his summer blue eyes shining. "Aww, c'mon Miss Sarah. It would be the neatest end to that story. A sort of final resolution. Shane has living descendants...after I'm done with my stay here I was thinking of going to see them and talking to them as well. But without an ending to the story...what's the point?" He shook his head, almost giving her a puppy stare as he gazed back at her. "So what do you say...will you give it a shot. If someone owed you their life and was willing to do anything to show their gratitude...what would you ask of them?"
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An odd dp I know, but a good starting point for Shane's continued adventures. Put yourself in Sarah's shoes...if someone owed you their life and was willing to do anything to express their gratitude...what would you ask of them?
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Hope you liked!
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2011 2:46 pm Post subject: |
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Wow a new chapter!
This was very exciting to see. As far as the DP goes this is another tough one. I don't think that she is going to seriously believe him and so she is probably going to try to come up with something to satisfy him.
However I am blanking on what she would suggest at this point :/
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Tikanni Corazon
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| Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 12:42 am Post subject: |
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Caught up with this one at last! And very enjoyable it was too.
I'm much like Ingro, and very much at a loss at the moment as to what Sarah might want from a guy she's just met, who's told her an incredible, previously unheard story about her grandfather. And I figure...that's how she would feel too. How could she possibly decide just like that, about such a thing. I say for now she laughs it off. As Shane is going to be staying there anyway, she will get to know him a little better, and will also have a chance to think about it, during that time.
Great chappie Rai! Looking forward to the next one!
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.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Sat Aug 20, 2011 4:49 pm Post subject: |
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GREAT chapter as has been the norm here. A haunting and compelling story as a whole, Rai!
| Quote: | | if someone owed you their life and was willing to do anything to express their gratitude |
I would start with asking them to deliver their life story. Perhaps they can show me what my (or my ancestor's) actions were really worth in the big picture. What have they done to contribute to the world, to others? I'd want to get a full view of the 'ripple effect'.
Then I'd probably think of something along the way - something that would be fitting based on what I was hearing about the other person and what I know about my own life and its challenges.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2011 3:03 pm Post subject: |
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| Thunderbird wrote: | | Quote: | | if someone owed you their life and was willing to do anything to express their gratitude |
I would start with asking them to deliver their life story. Perhaps they can show me what my (or my ancestor's) actions were really worth in the big picture. What have they done to contribute to the world, to others? I'd want to get a full view of the 'ripple effect'. |
I love this idea TB!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2011 7:00 pm Post subject: |
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No votes, no votes...sad day.
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| Posted: Tue Aug 30, 2011 2:07 am Post subject: |
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Sorry I never notice that a story is poling until someone posts about it 
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Sep 01, 2011 7:48 pm Post subject: |
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This should be getting more attention than it is... I'm at a loss to explain except that it didn't start for most of the audience currently here but during a previous era I guess.
Anyhow, hopefully this lets folks know: READ THIS!!! It really does kick some serious ass!
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Fri Sep 09, 2011 9:36 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you for the kind words T-Bird. Here is a new chapter for those who are sneaking peeks at this. Enjoy.
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Chapter Eight: Unbreakable
She couldn't help but smile at that earnest gaze that reminded her of nothing so much as a dog that sees the leash in your hand. He was just so full of energy, charged up by this whole idea. She'd seen that gaze in her Grandfather's eyes a time or two when he'd get particularly fired up by the story he was telling. She studied the young man again, tapping her lips thoughtfully before realizing they were covered in sudsy water. Patting her mouth with a dry dishcloth, she promptly turned her attention back to the dishes. "Well, that's rather hard to answer. What was this Shane like? I mean, what was his life worth? What did he do, who was he?"
The young man was quiet for a while, staring out the window at the boxes of flowers and the bees that hummed from bloom to bloom. "He was a good man, but not a gentleman. He was a devoted family man and perhaps a man on the verge of alcoholism. But measure the worth of his life...I'm not sure. What standard am I using to measure it?"
She drained the water in the sink, turning on the tap and quietly rinsing the others as she thought over his question. "What do we measure the worth of a man by. I suppose his accomplishments, what did he do for others? You said he was in the service, did he distinguish himself in any manner? Did he save lives, as my Grandfather saved his? Did he make some contribution to society beyond that of the average man, did his children? I'm not sure what to measure his life by. The value of a human life cannot be calculated by any means we possess. Each life is so singular and unique, it's the definition of priceless."
She turned the water off as she slipped the last of the now clean dishes into the wire dish rack next to the sink so that they could air dry in the warm summer heat. "You said he was a good man, what defines good? What made him a 'good' man as opposed to just a 'man' or an 'evil' man?"
His voice was even quieter than before but when she looked into those summer blue eyes there was an intensity in the man, a vibrant force of will, that she'd never seen in anyone else. "Many people would tell you that good and evil are just labels of human society. That we hedge ourselves in with rules both printed an unspoken, a living boundary of what we will and will not accept. Stay within the rules and bounds and you're 'good' and if you stray outside them you're 'evil'. But that's not true. The most evil of men work within those boundaries and those limits to slowly warp them. Just look at the world today for an example of that."
He shook his head, sitting up straighter in his chair, that vivid gaze locked on hers. "You want to know what evil is? Evil is a sensation, it's a feeling. It makes you want to throw up, makes your skin want to crawl off of your body. An evil man makes you ashamed to be a human, makes you feel filthy for being the same species. Evil isn't just a word, it isn't just a label, even though it gets used that way. You want to know what Evil is, Evil is the destruction of potential.
Potential is the single greatest thing humanity possesses, to deny or destroy it is to damn our race as a whole. Our race had the Potential to go to the moon and because that potential existed, someone decided that we needed to explore it. To push the very boundaries of what we considered possible and plausible and reach for that unattainable goal. Each human being, no matter how strong or weak, brave or cowardly, smart or challenged, has some quantity of Potential. To destroy that, to block that, that's the definition of Evil."
His words were so emphatic, alive with his conviction...she'd never heard anyone talk about a subject like that. "So...if Evil is the destruction of Potential then Good is the encouragement of it?"
He nodded. "Good is the encouragement of potential. Like preparing a garden and tending the seeds, if one nurtures potential then one is often rewarded. A Good person doesn't have to do much, just lend a hand when it's asked for. And you want to know what makes a person Great? The realization of their true potential. You hear a lot about it, that I have the Potential to do this or that...but how many people have the will and the drive to do that? Not very many. And that's why we have a bunch of good people on this planet but very few great ones."
She smiled at him. "You're a very curious person Shane. Most guys you're age, they're not really out there pondering the questions of society, the universe, and what the Almighty had for breakfast. They're too busy wondering...other things."
"I realize this Miss Sarah and it shames me sometimes. I suppose that's why I've become a historian. Living in ages gone by when men could be brutal and yet they had a greater sense of what was proper than the young people today. Now, I think we've gotten off track...how much is the room to rent and what might the house rules be?"
She almost slapped her forehead, she had completely gotten off track, derailed by his strange questions and energetic opinion. "The house rules are simple. If you make a mess, clean it up. The kitchen and dining rooms are communal, the living room is available to have guests visit in if you request. The downstairs bathroom and upstairs bathroom are also open to everyone, and of course the room itself is your personal space. However, I don't want any drugs, loud parties, or strange women...or men...finding their way into it. There are cheap motel rooms for that sort of thing.." Not that he struck her as that type but then again, her instincts about renters had been wrong before. "I'd appreciate it greatly if you'd keep the noise down after ten o'clock and if you are not in this house by eleven I will lock you out. Now, if you think you can abide by that the room is three hundred a month and I include meals...unless you want something fancy, then you'll have to buy it."
He reached into his duffel after a moment, fishing around, before pulling out three much wadded and crumpled hundred dollar bills. "As long as you can make a decent ham and cheese sandwich I don't think I'll be complaining too much. Also, I'm willing to help out around here if you'd like. Other than my research I don't happen to have anything to do here in town...so if you need gutters cleaned or a fence painted...I'm your man Miss Sarah."
Normally she'd be tempted to turn the offer down but she wasn't exactly what one would call handy. Until recently she'd relied on her no-good ex to take care of things like that. "I suppose I could accept a little bit of handy work in exchange for some of the rent. But don't go taking liberties or thinking that means you can skip payment. Times are hard for everyone and charity isn't something I can afford these days."
"Understood Miss Sarah, I was just trying to be helpful. I'm not very good at being idle." There was that disarmingly boyish grin as he stood, making her realize that he was still several inches taller than she was...and fairly muscular.
Sarah never used to be nervous around men but her no good ex had changed that attitude. Shane made her nervous, physically, but he was so earnest and openly honest...she didn't hesitate to call him a good person. But that didn't mean she was letting her guard down for even an instant.
"Alright then...I was going to go to the store. If there's anything special you'd like you're welcome to ride along with me and pick it up. Just this once though. After this I'll expect you to make trips to the store on your own." She moved past him to get her keys and her purse, sensing that he was quietly following her.
"I understand Miss Sarah."
"Well then, let's be on our way. I'll show you to your room when we get back. And maybe we'll have another talk about your book. You still have not told me what makes this man worth it, what he's done."
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Shane hadn't needed much from the store. He hadn't needed anything actually. He had, however, politely bought some more razors and another can of shaving cream as well as a couple bottles of cola. The sun had gone down while he'd followed Miss Sarah discreetly around the store. He wouldn't have normally but she'd asked him not to get lost and he'd offered to carry the groceries to the car. Little things like this were so simple and he really hadn't been trying to get cheaper rent. Just to help.
They paused next to her car and he stared up at the sky, watching as the stars slowly began to twinkle above them, his night vision muted by the glare of the parking lot lights. That was why he didn't see the man at first. The guy seemed to come out of nowhere, dressed all in black with a ski mask over his eyes. He clubbed Shane in the back of the head with his gun, sending Shane to his knees with his ears ringing and his eyes swimming. The groceries tumbled from his hands as a kick in the ribs sent him flying.
He could hear Sarah's scream abruptly cut off and he shook his head to clear his vision, listening to the attacker growl in a soft voice. He just wanted their wallets and the car and if nobody stopped him nobody would get hurt. Judging from the way the guy's gun hand was shaking he hadn't done this before. The other hand was firmly clamped over Sarah's mouth, keeping her quiet. The gun kept shaking...shaking...and Shane just knew if he didn't do something they were going to be in deep trouble.
He waited until the man was distracted by having to bend down with Sarah to get her purse, then he surged up off the pavement. His hands wrapped around the man's wrist, taking control of the weapon before charging the man. A shot rang out in the air, Sarah screaming as she bolted, and the man got a lucky punch in that sent Shane staggering back. Then the man trained the gun on Sarah, squeezing the trigger as he fired at her fleeing form.
Shane reacted on instinct, diving for Sarah, feeling one...two...three slugs impact against his skin. And they just bounced off. He lay there, covering Sarah with his body while the man took off running. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance and slowly, with a low groan, he moved to the side and rose to his knees. "Ach, damn tha' bloody little bastard...Miss Sarah are you alright?"
"Me? Me! You just got shot! You-"
She'd reached out for him, looking to put pressure on the wounds. Instead Shane watched the reactions crawl across her face before she fainted. Quickly, as the sirens grew louder and closer, Shane slung her purse over his back, hoping it hid the bullet holes in his jacket. Cradling her head in his lap, he waited for the officers and medics to arrive at the scene.
"Well, at least I paid Ezekiel back...but now what?"
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The police are coming, there will be questions. What is Shane going to do?
-------------------------------
Hope you liked.
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"Music makes you braver."
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Ingrothechundyer
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| Posted: Fri Oct 21, 2011 4:08 pm Post subject: |
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Wow I came back to renew this in my favorites and see I missed a chapter being posted.
Another excellent read that I greatly enjoyed. Another tough DP though.
I tend to think that he could pass it off as the bullets missed him if the only visible damage was to his jacket. She's in shock and isn't going to be sure of anything if the facts don't line up with her memory of what happened. The shooter just happened to miss and his jacket always had the holes (he saved it because it was a memento of some sort).
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Thu Oct 27, 2011 6:44 pm Post subject: |
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I am sooooo sorry I missed this chapter for sooooooooo loooooooong! This is really one of my favorite stories on the site so I fear I've sent entirely the wrong message to let it sit without reply this long.
The debate about the nature of evil... that kinda stuff was RIGHT up my alley... loved it! Disagree with it but loved it all the same... lol! My mom and I actually debated on that point. I counter to say that realization of potential doesn't really mean much and can in fact be evil as well. A nuke that never goes off is not a bad thing. And I could say more but will leave it at a note of strong appreciation for the cognizant thought being projected there... was a breath of fresh air to see that I'm not alone in feeling that such intellectual considerations could be just as entertaining as soppy emotional moments and action packed sequences.
The DP is rough... especially in that you hedged us in on some of our possible options by the decisions he's already made since being shot. But I'm going to say it anyhow - I think its time to vanish, vamoose, move on to another scene entirely. He got what he came for and its time for her to now think he's passed on...
But if that doesn't jive with what has been said, and I don't think it does, than I don't think we have anything to do but what Ingro has mentioned already.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2012 12:09 am Post subject: |
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I can't just let this one go. It keeps nagging at me. So it's time for a new chapter.
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| Time to vanish, his debt is repaid? |
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