The Key Between Stranger Realms - Day Thirteen

On this melancholy morning, I wake, rocking a memory of someone in my arms. I’m uncertain what time it is because the clocks are broken, flashing green strobes and nothing intelligible. Here in this humble abode there is a vacant ache of something etched into memory yet mysteriously gone. A presence, a noise, a vibration.

I don’t recall many things clearly these days. But I know that I didn’t always live alone here between these bare walls, on the couch that feels like it could swallow me. Where is she? The little creature who would always greet upon my return? The sweet beast who screeched at the twang of guitar strings?

I rise and run outside into the unforgiving heat, looking for her. Yet, there is a place in my mind that swells with dread of the mournful truth. Through the maze of concrete dwellings, on the other side, is the park. Yet, this morning, there is no recreation. The field is dressed in bouquets and people adorned in black flags. Surrounded is a sapling newly re-homed in the earth of this rare greenery.

“What is this for?” I question the first bystander to pass.

Wordlessly, they point to the decorated sign.

planted in loving memory

There is a picture of the woman, the frisbeer or falconer, who brought life to this park every Tuesday, who saved me from the waves of despair.

Is she really gone? Is she still in the stranger realm? I think of the ship, the captain and her crew who saved me and Garfield from a cast-away fate. What is her name?

***

“Marina,” the falconer introduces, holding out her hand.

Space has shifted. I am no longer in the park, looking for a stray companion. I am in the stranger realm, cradling the boy, Garfield in my arms. The captain and her crew has saved us. I am still wounded, aching from the lyre. I reach for her arm and board her ship.

Weary from wading, the boy sleeps in the hammock. On deck, with Captain Marina, I hold my tongue. There is so much I need to say, do not know where to begin.

“What is it, cast-away?” she questions.

“It is about a cat. Black and white, named after a flower. The kindest companion. But I lost her,” I explain.

“You mean Little Rock?” Marina asks, pointing to the mouser poised atop the banister.

I cry, for the versions of myself from each realm are merging and the memory of her absence aches. But she is still here, safe in the stranger realm.

“There is something else. I do not know if you will believe me,” I say, cradling the purring feline in my arms.

“I have been to the end of this world,” Marina begins. “There is not much I do not believe.”

“I first met you in another realm. And then again on your ship after bringing Garfield home. But in the other realm, you disappeared, like Little Rock. You died. But you are still here now,” I explain.

“I thought it a dream,” she sighs.

“So, you remember?” I ask.

“Partly, perhaps in the way you remember me before we truly met,” she shrugs.

“Is that how it happens with everyone? You die there but stay here?” I ask.

She shakes her head, the baubles on her hat jangling.

“Not like that. I was sick. I had to give myself over to this realm completely.”

“How?” I wonder.

She squints, as perplexed as I have been about the past unfoldings. Then, her gaze softens, and she laughs.

“I do not recall how.”

She reaches out a bruised wrist for her own companion to perch.

“But it was you.”

And with that, I am more confused than ever. How could I have saved her if I did not even recall her passing? Then, a realization hits me like a punch in the stomach. If she is stuck here, unable to return to the ordinary realm, could the same have happened to the lost queen, to Leon? Are they somewhere in the ordinary, frozen?

In the hammock with the snoring child and buzzing cat on my chest, I try to piece everything together. There is a pattern. In the passage between time and realms, I am due to visit the sorcerer next. And this time, I need answers. What am I, who am I to these worlds? I am The Key Between Stranger Realms. But what does that mean? What is causing all of this confusion? How can I mend it?

I drift, thinking of the sorcerer, hoping he will have better answers.

***

Hello, wanderer!

I hope you enjoyed this continuation of the series. Most of my fiction is woven with truth, this one especially. My sweet little companion lived a long and happy life. Now, I like to imagine she is immortalized in the stranger realm.

xoxo, for now,

-your friend, reminiscing