Simon and the Talisman of Time

It was the anniversary of his brother's disappearance. Although bright skies and warm sun were prevalent, his mood muted them to the palest grey. Simon wouldn't go to work today. He would let the darkness of the day envelope him.

If only...If only he knew what had happened to Damien, Simon felt like he could settle into life again, rather than observing it from the periphery with the detachment, the safety net that kept his grief at bay.

He did not know it but today would be the day that he would finally find out.

*

Simon decided to go out. A walk. Fresh air. Clear his head. He knew it wouldn't work but sitting in his flat felt unusually oppressive. Coffee. He'd get a coffee and sit. Perhaps in the bustle, he could lose himself to contemplation.

He entered a busy coffee shop and sat facing the window, gazing out. People walked past from all life: mums and toddlers; striding businessmen; youths, trudging; old men, doddering, his view accompanied by the hiss and grind of the bean machines. He felt himself go into something of a trance and so, was not aware of the elderly gentleman who came and sat at the table with him until he spoke.

"Is it you?" the voice said. "Am I finally back?"

Simon started a little at the intrusion and turned to the speaker. A man was positioned opposite him. He was old, older than old: ancient. He looked respectable, clean with small circular-lensed specs and a battered hat. His eyes were bright and they were peering intently at Simon with hope and query.

Simon did not know this man, of that he was certain, and yet, there was something stirring in his intuition that made him feel like they were connected in some way.

"Do I know you?" Simon asked, wondering what he could have meant about being "back". From a trip? To the coffee shop?

The old man shook his head slightly, a wry smile appearing on his face. "So like you, Simon, to not see exactly what is in front of you."

Simon's heart jolted at his name and looked closely as the old man held his gaze expectantly. Then, he saw it. In the raise of the eyebrow and the side grin.

"Damien? Is it you?" Simon's wide-eyed expression and hushed tone indicated his disbelief.

Damien nodded, sagely and seemed to slump a little. He suddenly looked tired, withered, and a little lumpen.

"But how? Why? I mean, what? How can this be you?" Simon's surprise was blurted out like a scattergun. He paused to take a breath. He scanned the man's face which in the barrage of questions had winced before assuming a sad expression, wistful almost and regretful.

Damien sighed. "Well, therein lies a tale."

Simon stared. The old man lowered his head, a slight tremor meaning he was not perfectly still.

"Where to begin?" he uttered finally and reached to his wrist and with care and precision, unbuckled the watch strapped there, placing it carefully, almost reverently on the table.

Simon was still too stunned to speak. This was unbelievable! Could this man, this elderly man, really be his missing brother?

"This is not how I imagined our reunion," Damien started, "although I have thought on it often. Every leap, every era, hoping that I'd landed back...home. Sometimes I did but..." Damien hesitated. "It was always the wrong time. Right place, wrong time."

Damien looked up at Simon who had regained his composure a little and was about to ask his brother what on Earth he was talking about when Damien shook his head, gently and said, "Not yet, Simon. Please. Let me talk and then you can ask me whatever questions you have after."

And so, Damien told a fantastical story to Simon in the coffee shop; of how he'd been transported in the decade he had been missing to different periods of time; backwards to deepest, darkest history, into the future, here in the present but to different locations, days ahead, days behind, all at random. He had lived pretty much hand-to-mouth all his life, relying on the kindness of strangers to take him in. He'd done a lot of fruit-picking and grape-crushing and farming and some less holistic practices (although he didn't go into detail) merely to survive. Simon sat, captivated as the stranger who was his brother regaled him with a plethora of stories to rival the Arabian Nights. Simon's emotions veered between different states, like they were on a wild chariot race: Disbelief was holding the reins and steering, desperately trying to keep them all from tumbling into the ditches of Disregard and Disdain, whilst Recognition and Joy were waving gaily from the back, enjoying the ride but ready to jump off if needed. Nostalgia and Relief stood at the front, a steadying arm on Disbelief's shoulder.

Finally, Damien stopped. He looked at his brother, suddenly aware of how preposterous this would all sound to someone who had not experienced it. And that, after all was why he was here. Damien's love for his brother had not changed. His prime motivation had always been to get back to him but...Damien had lived a marvellous life! Not always easy but always full! Adventure, danger, love, hunger, luxury, skulduggery, space travel - he had done it all! More than anything, he wanted to share this, but not just through his words. He wanted Simon to have the life he had.

"But how?" Simon finally found his words. "Is it really you and can this be true? It's too incredible to be believed! I can't..."

Damien pushed the watch towards Simon, the Talisman of Time as he had come to call it, which had taken him away, and brought him back.

"But you can, Simon. Put it on." Damien pushed the watch closer. "Perhaps let's share a coffee first, eh? But put it on and you'll see. Oh yes, you'll see alright."

998 words

***

This is an entry for Liam Storm's February Challenge which you can read about here!