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1. ON HOME GROUNDS
Having
nothing better to do on a Friday night, I said goodnight to Mom and Dad and
walked to Mary's house. When I arrived, Betty was braiding Carry's hair, Martha
was painting her toenails purple, and Linda was spreading a black tee shirt on
the bed. I walked over to look at it, and counted eleven small white skulls
aligned across the front of the tee shirt.
"Delicious..."
crooned Linda. "Mary, where did you get this creepy thing?"
I
didn't hear her answer, for when I looked up, the room was drained of color and
frozen in time. An uncanny feeling made me say, "I have to go..."
The
girls looked at me, their stunned faces also frozen in black and white.
"Alya,
you just got here!" Mary's voice came from afar.
"I
better..." I whispered, and backed out of the room as if unsure of what to
expect. The doorknob felt cold and real, and as I slipped out, I heard
gee-whizzes laced with Linda's nervous giggle exploding in that otherworldly
air.
Running
home in the warm September night I wondered what was happening to me. Stopping
in a pool of light I recalled that last Friday at Linda's house the world had
also turned snapshot still, but when I blinked, all returned to normal. Not
this time. This time the fixation had taken hold, and I knew that nothing would
ever be the same.
I was
about to cross the street, but envisioning myself coming home sooner than
expected—Mom's
questioning eyes, Dad looking up from his paper—not yet, I thought, and sat down under the
maple tree.
The
rustle of leaves was soothing; the coarse trunk against my back drained away
the dread. Sifting through the events of the evening I realized that for some
time now I had felt reluctant to go to these girlish gatherings, enjoying the
hours spent by myself more than those with people. To tell the truth, I felt no
need to talk, no need to even listen to the intimate chattering the girls so
gleefully enjoyed. Something wasn't right. When I was alone, a sweet longing
welled up inside me, as if a bubble were to burst and propel me into a world
brimming with excitement. Savoring the feeling, I walked home and went straight
to bed.
That
night I dreamt of an old map, the faded round mass of land surrounded by
turbulent waters. An eerie glow at the center of the map made it hard to see
what was there, but near the top there was a small garden encircled by a fence,
and inside it a naked man and a woman holding an apple between them. Four
rivers flowed from the garden, walled cities crowding their banks, the
mountains between them raging with beasts. At the bottom of the map the four
rivers converged, spilling into the waters that encircled the round landmass.
In the churning waters a towering black mountain jutted straight up, and on top
of the mountain in a nest of flames lay a huge petrified egg.
I was
looking at the egg when the mountain rumbled so hard that the egg cracked open. A large featherless hatchling stood up wobbling, and as it
shivered, waves of white feathers sprouted. When it spread wings, it rose high
into the air like a promise and vanished in the glowing center.
A
sleepy silence blanketed the faceless horizon. Only a step away from where I
stood, clouds were spinning slowly, sucking me in.
"Don't
move. I know the way out of here," said a white sparrow hovering above me.
"What
is this...? Where am I?"
"At
the outer edge of your present state," twittered the bird.
"And
you?"
"I
am your other, the one you talk to when you talk to yourself."
"What
is happening...?"
"The
world you live in has lost its power to move you. Follow me and you'll see the
same familiar things as if for the first time."
"Must
I?" I asked, not sure whether I wanted to go through another ordeal.
"Those
who dream the map are destined to take this journey. But not everyone reaches
the end of the road, the place where shadows lift."
Curious
about the shadows, I said, "Yes, I want to know what lies ahead."
"What
you are about to see is not your future. Change-in-time is what the journey is
about." Alighting on my shoulder, the white sparrow chirped, "Turn
around!"
Before
us lay desolate flatlands, the sky the color of ashes as bleak as the ground
under my feet. No trees, no mountains, no landmarks of any sort to suggest a
direction.
"What
you see is a reflection of your mind," whispered the sparrow.
A
chill ran up my spine and I stopped.
The
bird twittered, "Go on, there is nothing else we can do."
With
eyes fixed on the horizon I walked on, but finding myself walking in circles,
feeling lost in this no-man's-land, I stopped again.
"Look
at your feet," whispered the bird into my ear.
There
was nothing there to look at but a small dust devil whirling near by.
"Look
again, what looks like nothing may take us out of here."
Now
the dust devil was twisting around my ankles, and as I looked at it, a forked
tongue stuck out to sample the air. It's a lizard, I thought, and a reptilian
belly born in thought rubbed against my shin. Whirling slower, the dust devil
grew bigger. The thing must be alive, crossed my mind, and that instant a snout
appeared sniffing my scent. I better stop guessing, I thought, for every time I
tried to guess what was inside the dust, an image of it appeared as if my
thoughts were shaping the thing. But instead of going away, the whirling mass
heaved like a four-legged animal rising to its feet, a green-scaled tail
falling to one side, a claw groping for ground—
"It's
a dragon!" I shouted, scaring away the bird.
Sure
enough, a full-fledged dragon with slime-green scales stood up gasping for air.
This, then, was how the world looked to me.
I
jumped aside but the dragon saw me. Exhaling curlicues of flames, eyes flashing
white, the creature took a step closer. Having nowhere to run or hide, I pulled
off the braided bracelet Mary had given me and tossed it at the dragon.
Catching it in midair, it swallowed the morsel in one gulp and grew bigger
twofold. Hungry for more, nostrils spewing steam, the dragon took another step.
Slipping off the ring Mom had given me for my birthday, I threw it at the
beast, but that too failed to appease it. The golden locket willed to me by
Grandmother was my most precious possession, and when it too vanished in the
beast's jaws, the dragon grew monstrously big. Roaring triumphantly, it exhaled
another batch of flames and, mouth gaping, tail thrashing, reached for my head.
When the tail swished between us, I grabbed it and shoved it into the gaping
jaws, and the dragon swallowed it. Eyes bulging with surprise, body twisted in
a ring, it froze, and I jumped onto the dragon's belly, slipped through the
ring, and sliding down the other side, ran without looking back.
Catching
up with me the sparrow shrieked into my ear, "Stop! This will not do! You
must start at the beginning!"
At
the beginning? I stopped and turned around—where the dragon had stood, a tall rainbow lit
up the gloomy sky.
"There
it is!" chirped the bird, excitedly. "Go for it! It may vanish any
moment!"
Running
as fast as I could, I ran into the rainbow, and colors splashing in my face, I
stopped. My companion was cheerfully singing, "Enter the unknown, unknown,
and you feel unwelcome and alone, alone..." Seeing me puzzled, the bird
explained.
"The
ditty says you must enter the unknown not by accident but fully aware that you
are taking a decisive step. Only then will you know why you are where you are.
Don't fret, you won't be alone." Then whispered, "Try the color
purple on your left... or is it on your right? Never mind, just go. It does not
matter where you start."
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