Aberinth's Marvels

Some say they sprang up overnight, the cities in the sky and sea. What wonders now blanket this world were so unusually built that even the most learned architects of the Old Era couldn’t say how they came to pass. Yet, here they stand in all their glory, worlds atop the clouds, their towers gilt and shining in the sun, the gentle hum of unseen motors whirring beneath their mighty turrets. Their magnificence is only matched by alien worlds hidden far beneath the waves, their great glass domes and crystalline lights luring giant squid and mammoth whales into view. It is said that if one stands at the edge of such a place, the creatures come so close, you could almost speak to them.

But life was not always lived this way. There was a time before the New Era when Earth was a far drearier place. Brown buildings sat atop brown earth covered in dry, brown grass with no end in sight. The world burned within itself, the air, toxic with its brown-tinged haze, loomed overhead. It was within such a world that a Builder was born, and it is from her that all the mysteries of this new life burst forth most accidentally.

Tabitha Harris, a resident of Number Six, the corner unit of a rather shabby display of government housing in an even shabbier neighborhood called Earl’s End, pulled her curly brown hair into a tight bun. She donned an old pair of brown coveralls, a deep russet color to denote her special status as Delivery Personnel, and pinned a beige name tag to her chest.

Looking herself over, she deemed everything in order and patted down a wayward strand of hair. Today would be a record delivery day; she just knew it. She marched out of her dormitory, down the rickety wood staircase and into yet another roasting morning at Earl’s End.

Dislodging her rusted bicycle from the equally rusted rack, she pulled on her prized possession: a black mirrored helmet. Every delivery person received one at graduation, but for Tabitha, it was a reminder that things could be different, that she could be different if she tried.

She’d placed first in her class and set a record for the fastest bike time out of everyone in her group. Her instructors had been so impressed that she’d been given a brand new helmet, not one of their hand-me-downs. She smiled as she strapped it on, setting off along the dirt road toward the bottling factory and kicking up dust as she went.

There were four clients to assist today and the floor manager at the bottle factory, John Duffy, was first on the list. As she sped past row after row of ancient brown brick houses, Tabitha went through the list in her mind. Bottles were delivered fist thing in the morning so the Dairy owner could help his customers. Then she took the dairy deliveries to the two grocers in town. From the grocers’, she’d take produce and meat deliveries to the bedridden and from there she took all the coin she’d earned that day to be weighed at the bank. It was the same route every day. Nothing ever changed in Earl’s End or in Greater New Southend, for that matter. The whole of the world seemed stuck in a perpetual state of sameness.

She arrived at the bottle factory at half-past seven and rapped three times on the door. A stout man with a walrus mustache peered out at her.

“You’re early!” he whispered good-naturedly. “I’ve got half your order ready. Give us a hand with the other bits and bobs, will you?”

This, too, was a regular part of Tabitha’s day. “Of course, Johnny. Have you got any extras for me today?”

John feigned surprise. “Why you cheeky- I don’t know what you’re insinuating, Tabitha. I keep my deliveries on the up-and-up, always have.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Johnny. I’ve got my eye on new trainers this month. Can’t you spare a few more bottles than usual? I know the apothecary’s running low.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve asked me so nicely and all, I suppose I could find some at the back there to throw into the order.” He winked slyly as he loaded five extra bottles in the crate. “You know the drill, then?” he asked more seriously.

Tabitha grinned. “Four for me, one for your trouble. The coin stays between us.”

“That a girl,” he said, hoisting the crate onto the back of the bike. “Now, if you’re caught, I don’t know how you got the extra bits, and you don’t remember me, right?”

“What extra bits?” she asked.

“That’s the ticket,” he said conspiratorially. “Off you get now. The first shift will be arriving any minute.”

“Bye, Johnny!” she called as she peddled down the factory’s outer ramp and back onto the gravelly dirt roads of downtown New Southend.

Hot wind whistled past her ears as she peddled onward, waving to familiar faces as she wove in and out of the ever-condensing foot traffic. Her load of bottles rattled heavily behind her as she sped toward the Dairy.

Maneuvering the bike and crate around a gaggle of early market shoppers, she finally made it to open road and put pedal to cracked pavement as she approached the entrance to her secret shortcut.

From out of nowhere, a man in a bright yellow suit barreled into her and knocked her flat on her back. Gasping for breath, Tabitha barely registered the man before he was on his feet and running away again. She got up and surveyed the damage: scraped arm, broken bottles everywhere, the rusted wheel of her bike bent at a crazy angle.

But all of this was nothing to Tabitha. She only had eyes for her helmet. The prized treasure she’d worked so hard to win had three long scratches at the back.

Tears in her eyes, Tabitha looked up at the sepia-toned clouds and cursed. The man, whomever he was, was long gone by now and all he’d left behind was a small black notebook. She picked it up and leafed through it, looking for something to identify the bamboozler.

There was an address scrawled in the back of the book, a shop with an indecipherable name. The address, however, was crystal clear, and she set off at once.

The little shop was tucked away down a side street, far from inquisitive eyes. There were several notebooks and beautifully made pens on display. A parakeet - a live parakeet - perched on a branch in the window, cooing at her behind the glass. The sign on the door read Aberinth’s Marvels (and Stationary).

“Hello?” she called curiously, setting off the door bell. “Anyone here?”

A wizened, old man in a long yellow robe appeared in a door at the back of the shop. “Can I help you?” he croaked.

“Um, I’m looking for the owner of this book. He ruined my cargo and owes me coin for my helmet.”

The man examined her quietly. “Coin you say? Would $20,000 cover the expenses?”

Her jaw fell open. “$20,000? I don’t think I need quite that much for the bike. Do you know him, then? The man in the yellow suit?”

The man nodded. “Yes, I know him very well. Is the bike the only thing you wish to fix? Nothing else you can think of in your life? Your world?”

“I- um, well, I hadn’t thought much about it,” she replied.

“Perhaps you’d like to think it over?” he asked, a curious twinkle in his eyes.

Tabitha thought of the broken bottles on the broken road by the brown buildings in her brown universe and tentatively nodded.

“Through that door,” he said, pointing at the door from which he’d come.

Tabitha stared from the man to the door and back again.

“Where does it lead?” she asked.

“I was just wondering that myself,” he replied curiously. “After you.”

The man bowed as she walked to the old door. Tentatively, she opened it and felt the air leave her lungs. A great whooshing flew by her ears. When her eyes adjusted and she no longer felt quite sick, a giant ballroom encased in glass appeared around them. Outside of this, water teemed with colorful life.

“It’s miraculous!” she exclaimed, nose pressed to the glass. A jellyfish swam past, waving at her with ten different arms. “Where are we?”

“No idea!” exclaimed the man happily. “Come child! There’s no time!”

“No time for what?” she asked, but he ignored her.

He shuttled them through the long glass hall to a great oak door at the opposite end. He nodded and she eagerly opened it, landing them in a tropical forest of bright green, crimson and indigo. Tabitha could hardly contain her excitement. They passed from room to room, each just as incredible as the last until finally they reached a rusty iron door.

“Last stop, I’m afraid,” the old man said. “Any new ideas or will it just be a new helmet for you when we walk through that door?”

She turned to find the man slowly morphing into a familiar face. “It’s you! The man in the suit! How did you-?”

“No time, child! There is very little time given to us in this life. Don’t squander it on what is right here in front of you.”

No one had ever asked Tabitha to dream bigger than her station. No one had ever said that the extraordinary could come to someone so incredibly ordinary either. But perhaps, there is something incredible about ordinary people doing ordinary things.

She lifted a trembling hand and turned the knob. The door groaned inward and let them through. A single swerving bridge lay between this door and the last. The glass panels gave the illusion that they were walking on air, not even air but space itself. Great galaxies swirled in the distance, comets streaked across the stars, and there, sitting in all its brown glory, was Earth.

Tabitha stared. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

“What do you want to do?” he said in return.

“I’m want to start building,” she said. “I want to build a world that sparks wonder for people again as you’ve done for me.”

“A builder, hm? Sounds expensive. Do you think you’re up for the challenge? You may not see all of this transpire in your lifetime.”

Tabitha nodded and walked above the brightly burning stars to the last door. “It’s not so expensive. A bit of education bought with the coin you offered and some luck thrown in should do the trick. I’ll just make a start and see how far I can go.”

The man smiled at her. “You know, I once said the exact same thing, and I am one of very few people without any regrets.”

Tabitha squared her shoulders and stepped through the door. She was back in New Southend. The town seemed just as brown as ever, but a lot can happen with hard work and a touch of imagination. Streets were mended, gardens were planted on the tops of homes, and the air became so clear, you could taste the sunlight on your tongue. Change swept over the town and then, the world. A brilliant green returned to the planet as new feats of engineering drummed up houses in the unlikeliest of places.

Tabitha never saw the man again; he disappeared when she walked through the door. She kept her prize helmet on display in a glass dome, back to front so the scratches could be admired. Such a small imperfection, a beautiful mishap that lead to a whole world where dreams could become reality. She smiled from behind the counter of the little shop she’d inherited with its parakeet and notebooks in the window. It was time to pass on her old set of robes.