Thursday, July 5, 2018

True Believers Chapter 8

8
Creatures


HE GOT ANDERS PUT TO BED IN HIS DORM ROOM; DINO ONLY STOOD BY, looking on with a half-stupid look on his face. Puck told him not to disturb Anders at any cost, to which Dino readily agreed. Puck then left them, Dino peering down into his roommate's face with concern.

He met Al again at the Little Nevada station, and asked to speak with him. The only unoccupied place around was the Ferris Wheel, so they went there; while they were up in the air Puck began to talk.

"Something's wrong with Anders," he said.

"Such as?"

"He had some kind of spell. We went on that ride, the Hi-Roller. You seen it?"

"Sure. I've gone on it a couple times, but it isn't as good as the Orbiter."

"Yeah, I know. He sort of mentioned he didn't like a lot of motion but I didn't know it'd be this bad. He nearly passed out after the ride was over. He was all white with these purple rings around his eyes like he was dead. And he was frying hot. I mean, I only touched his head to feel his temperature and nearly burned my fingers."

"That bad?"

"And he was muttering something--something about the Gravitron and owls."

Al looked at him, that same blank look he'd seen so many times before. "Gravitron?"

Of course; Al was one of the few people who probably had never heard of the thing. "It's this ride," he explained lamely; just at that moment it came into view, far below; he pointed out over the crowds at it. "That one right there."

Al looked, and his eyebrows went up. "Kind of suggestive, isn't it?" he mused.

"Suggestive...yeah, I guess. We've all been a little obsessed with it lately," he said, his own face growing hot. "You'd probably know why."

"Mm-hm. What did you do with Anders?"

"We put him to bed with a cold cloth on his head. He was really burning up. Like he just got a fever out of nowhere."

"Heat stroke?" Al asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. But don't you think this all adds up?"

Al looked at him again. "All adds up to what?"

Puck started counting on his fingers. "First Anders starts having the same dreams we're all having--he's walking around and there's fog and this weird light, and there are these little guys all calling him to come over--"

"Describe the little guys."

Puck looked at Al. He was serious. So he cleared his throat and thought a moment before answering.

"Little guys," he said again. "About four feet tall. Really thin. Long arms and fingers. And their heads are too big. They look kind of like bugs 'cause of their eyes."

Al nodded. "Go on."

"Anyway, first he starts having these dreams out of nowhere. I know he said it was owls, but I think he was lying."

"Why?"

Puck shrugged as they reached the bottom of the turn and started going up into the air again. "Because he's afraid."

Al didn't ask of what, and Puck was glad he didn't. Instead he nodded again. Puck counted off another finger.

"Second, I've seen how he acts around that new student, Gavin MacLeod. You know how Gavin always wears those big black glasses? I know lots of people are staring at him because he's blind, and we're not used to that, but Anders acts funny. He kind of looks twice. Like he recognizes him from somewhere. Where that would be is anybody's guess.

"Third, when he first visited me at the Hub, he was kind of shocked by all the planets; there's this space display there, you know, and all the planets are arranged in a circle and they light up and move. He acted weird around that, like he'd rather be someplace else.

"Then there was the other dream he had; he told me about it--rather, I told him, and he said the same thing. It was a dream about the Gravitron, of course. Only it wasn't really the Gravitron--or rather, it was the real Gravitron. And I think he was thinking the same thing. What's more, during this, he sort of zoned out like he remembered something. A 'flashback,' he called it.

"The next day we all heard screaming around the dorm. We went to his room and there he was, blood all over. It was pouring from his nose. His bed was covered with it. He said he was freaking out because he'd never had a nosebleed before. Now why would he just suddenly 'get' one out of nowhere?

"That was when we came to see you. You saw how he acted when I asked about alien abductions. He obviously doesn't believe in them."

"Do you?" Al suddenly asked, as they went through another turn, the rides shrinking below them.

Puck was caught off-guard. "Well--yeah, I guess. I don't think as many people as have claimed it have been abducted, but I think some might have been."

"So are you saying you believe Anders has been abducted?"

Puck could think of nothing to say. He'd never given it much serious thought, having instead just jumped onto the theory as if it were a bucking bronco and not letting go. "I--I'm not sure about that," he admitted.

The Ferris Wheel was slowing down now; they rose to the very top and stopped, swinging in midair as someone far below unboarded. "Maybe you should think about it some more," Al suggested, looking down at the Gravitron. "Gravitron," he said to himself, thoughtfully. "Like a flying saucer landed right in the middle of the Jamboree."

That I don't find so hard to swallow, Puck thought to himself, as the ride slowly started up again.

* * * * *


He was walking; and now he felt he had some control.

That was a relief; he started looking around him, but it was all just the same gray fog. He suddenly remembered--Aren't I supposed to be in bed? But it was a very minor thought, and he pushed it out of his head.

He looked again. No Gravitron. That was good. No lights, except the one far off behind the fog which he couldn't really see. That was good too. But still he knew he wasn't alone.

We're never alone.

He continued walking around, even doing that circle-thing he'd seen Gavin and Jacob do; he followed Gavin's example and looked up.

So that's where you're hiding.

He felt, surprisingly, not very scared at all at the sight of the huge lighted object hovering above him; he just stared at it, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. He stepped back quite a ways and it came down silently--at least he thought so until he detected a very faint hum--and landed. A ridiculous thought about the lack of tripod feet fleeted through his head. Some kind of door or portal slid up, and light poured out over him; white light. At first he shielded his eyes, but it didn't hurt as much as the other light did. Then he saw he was surrounded by strange, small figures; he just looked down over them and started to laugh.

You look funny, he found himself thinking.

To that they replied, but not in words as he knew them, more like with images in his mind. It was like he was suddenly looking through a book of anthropology; all kinds of human faces flashed before his eyes--blacks, whites, Indians, Asians, Latinos--he understood what they were trying to tell him, and quit laughing. Besides, it must just be nervousness, since he had seen them before, hadn't he?

Why am I here now? he asked. The way I see it you don't have me tied up. And he laughed again, only mentally.

One of the creatures placed its small, delicate hand upon his arm and looked up at him. He looked back down, feeling as if he could drown in those eyes. Images, all obscure--flashing lights, a storm, a crash--flashed in his mind.

We need you to help us find our companion, it "said." Anders only stared at it, puzzled.

Your companion? And who is that?

You will know when need to know. And it let go of his arm and they all moved closer together, away from him. He counted them. There must have been at least six.

No more dreams, he begged them silently. I've had enough of the dreams.

To that there was no response except an echo of, You will know when you need to know. And then they, and the light, were gone.

Anders sat up with a gasp and looked around. Familiar sights greeted him; he was in his dorm room. Dino was lying back on his bed on the other side of the room; on hearing Anders awaken, he got up and came over towards him.

"You feeling better?" he asked.

Anders looked at him; "I don't know. Was I sick?"

"You sure were! Here, let me check." He put his hand to Anders's forehead. "Hey, you don't feel too bad to me. I think whatever it was's passed."

"Yeah." Anders swung his legs off the bed and stood up; he didn't feel shaky like he had been lately, and for some reason the dream was still clear in his head--and it didn't scare him to remember it. It only puzzled him.

"You sure you're okay?" Dino asked as he went for the door, tagging along behind like a lost puppy.

Anders rubbed his forehead as he found the doorknob. "'I will remember when I need to know,'" he said, paraphrasing the beings' words.

* * * * *


Of course, Puck hadn't expected Anders to be out and about so soon; so later that day, when he was at the Jamboree watching a game, when he turned and saw Anders standing beside him it was as if he were looking at his doppelganger. He let out a screech and they both jumped.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he demanded. Before Anders could get anything out, he clapped a hand over his forehead. "What--? Hey, you're supposed to be sick!"

"I guess it broke," Anders replied, taking Puck's arm and leading him away through the crowd. "I have to talk to you."

Puck broke free. "It was a dream, wasn't it? Another dream."

Anders nodded. "But it was different this time."

"How so?"

"It's like they were communicating with me. Not at me, with me."

Puck understood what he meant, but was still confused. "How so?" he repeated himself.

"They actually answered my question this time."

"So what'd you ask them?"

Anders suddenly felt a little stupid for not asking them why they were doing this; instead he'd only asked why now. He'd have to remember that--next time?

"I asked them why I wasn't tied down. They said they're looking for their friend."

Puck stared at him in amazement. "Their friend? They're looking for their friend?" [Note--a silly subplot that would now best be expunged from the story.]

"Yes! I couldn't really tell what was happening, but they put some kind of picture in my head--I couldn't tell what it was exactly. Something about a storm and something crashed. I don't know. But that's what they told me--they want their friend."

Puck responded by turning and walking away. Anders tagged after him like Dino had done. Puck started muttering to himself.

"So they want their friend," he was saying as Anders caught up. "So aliens get lonely too." He whirled on Anders, who stepped back a pace. "So who is their friend?"

Anders was at a loss for words. "Well...I don't know. I thought--"

"You thought what?"

"--It was just a dream." Puck couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"So why'd you come running to me, all excited if it's just a dream?" he demanded, his voice rising an octave.

Anders felt very stupid now; "Because I finally figured out what it meant," he found himself saying, and he was surprised that he thought this was at least half-true. "So now it won't bother me anymore!" He smiled at Puck; Puck only gave him a withering stare, and he faltered, stepping back another pace. "Don't...don't you think so?"

"Of course not," Puck said, disgusted. "Don't tell me after all this you still think it's just a friggin' dream."

"Well what else would it be? It's not really 'aliens'! Come on!"

"Come down to Earth, Anders," Puck said, adding to the irony of the situation. "What makes you think you won't have any more dreams?"

"Because I figured it out," Anders said. And then, as an afterthought, "And I asked them to."

Puck stared at him a moment, trying to make certain he'd heard right; then he burst into maniacal laughter. Anders frowned, unable to see what was so funny. "You--you--asked them to," he gasped. "That--that's rich. You asked them to!" He kept on laughing for several minutes; passersby started looking in his direction, thinking maybe he'd partaken of a little too much lemonade. "So--you really think they'll do as you say--"Oh, we're so sorry, Mr. Anders Carlsson from Sweden! We'll make sure you won't have any more bad dreams! It's all our fault--we'll stop it right away!'" And he laughed again.

Anders was getting just a little ticked off by all this. "And how would you know that, even if they were real, they wouldn't keep their promise?"

Puck stopped laughing, trying to determine if Anders was for real or not. He obviously didn't know just what he was dealing with here. "Anders, if you'll recall your dream, I'm certain they never 'promised' you anything. They probably didn't respond to that at all."

Anders thought back, and with a sinking feeling realized Puck was right. They'd dodged his question, instead repeating their earlier statement, which had nothing to do with it; or else just promised new dreams. He felt a shudder coming on.

"No," he admitted, "they didn't."

"There. You see?" Puck returned. He turned away towards the concession stands; Anders suddenly noticed his own mouth was dry, and followed, though he hadn't meant to; it was as if his legs were part of some strange machine commanded by something else. "So don't go to bed with any high hopes tonight. I'm sure you'll be seeing more of them." He looked over his shoulder, and Anders saw him cock an eyebrow. "And when I say 'them,' I don't mean the dreams." He continued on his way, and Anders stopped in the middle of the thoroughfare, surrounded by milling people but feeling very alone.

* * * * *


The next day was the horse show; as Anders came outside into the sunlight after waking up (he had, as was usual lately, slept in; he couldn't remember any dreams, but he knew that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't had any) he noticed lots of people going by leading horses by their halters. He winced. It wasn't that he actually hated horses; he just didn't like them very much. They were so big. And they could kick you and put you out, just like that. Not to mention their teeth. Once, about a year ago, when he'd gotten too close to a horse, it had responded by lifting its upper lip and showing its teeth--they were huge! So he sidled his way around the imposing animals until he'd reached the end of the line and, being extremely careful to keep out of the way of those dangerous hindlegs, made his way to the Hub.

He was shocked when he entered, as there was a horse there, too--right in the middle of the Hub! Puck was grooming it, and looked up at him briefly as he entered, then grinned at the look on Anders's face. "What's the matter, Anders? Never seen a horse inside a college building before?"

"What--what's that thing doing in here?" he asked.

Puck snorted at him disdainfully as he worked on the horse's neck. "It's not a 'thing,' Anders. It's a horse."

"Well, what's it doing in here?"

"I'm grooming the damn thing, can't you see?" Puck shot back, before realizing he, too, had called the horse a 'thing.' Anders smiled at this, while Puck's face grew red. He went around to the other side of the room and sat down, while Puck just continued brushing the animal's back.

They just went on with what they were doing for several minutes, Puck brushing, Anders sitting and looking around, both in silence. Anders looked at the horse for a moment, but the sight of the huge white animal with its large dark eyes unnerved him, reminded him of something, and he turned away, looking instead upward at the spiral of planets above him.

Does every single thing I look at have to remind me?

He averted his eyes again, and this time watched Puck indirectly as he brushed the animal's tail. He noticed that the horse was not pure white, but a sort of dirty grayish color, darkening around its hooves; this must have been the one that had been stolen by that Jacob guy a couple days ago, he mused. The horse snorted and Anders thought of what a great pair it and Puck must make; he couldn't hide the smile that crept onto his face, but when Puck caught a glance of it, he pretended not to notice, so Anders didn't have to explain. He just finished grooming and stepped back to look the horse over. The horse turned its head to the side and appeared to be looking at Anders; Anders stared back for a moment, then started looking around the room again.

"Well, what do you think of that?" Puck asked no one in particular. "Anders outstared by a horse. Something on your mind, A. C.?"

"Not really," Anders replied. "I just don't like horses."

"What? Now tell me how anyone can not like horses."

"I don't know, I just don't. They're so big."

"So? What, did one throw you as a kid or something?"

Anders opened his mouth to reply yes, only he couldn't remember if one ever had. He didn't think so. In fact he didn't remember how he first got scared of horses at all. "I don't know," he just said, lamely, and, his own face growing red, "I just don't like them, that's all."

Puck stared at him a moment, then shrugged off any other questions he'd been meaning to ask. Anders felt relieved that he did this. He didn't enjoy discussing things that made no sense to him. Even though all that had been going on in the past week didn't really make any sense either.

"Maybe it's hereditary," he suggested instead, half to himself as he went back and brushed the horse's tail one last time. As soon as he pulled away the tail flicked as if with impatience, and Puck responded by swatting it. The horse snorted again, and stomped a hoof.

"Come on," Puck said, taking the horse by its halter and leading it to the door. Anders found it hard to believe how such a big animal could fit through that door. He wondered how hard it would be to get it downstairs. Whoo! "Time for the show."

"So that's what everybody's going to."

"Duh. What'd you think it was, a pro-equine rally? 'Horse sense or no sense.'"

"Ha ha. Well, you and your horse just go along. I'd rather spend my time elsewhere."

"Such as?"

Anders thought, then shrugged. This time he didn't reply. As Puck turned and headed for the door, though, he spoke up.

"What's that horse's name, anyway?"

Puck stopped in his tracks; the horse was just about his--he didn't really own it, but neither did anybody else--and he'd never really given any thought as to a name. And right now, his mind was stuck on the matter. Suddenly a word popped into his head; it was incredibly silly, so, on a whim, he replied, "Rosie." [Note--yes, there's meaning behind this too. Contact me if you're interested.] Then he turned away again and left, shutting the door after the horse.

The door's echo was loud in the domed, empty room; Anders could feel it vibrating among the planets and bouncing off the walls. But there was only one thing bouncing around in his head, and that was the nagging question (no pun intended) of why Puck had chosen to name a male horse Rosie.

* * * * *


That thought stayed in his head for the rest of the day, and along with it he thought about that first dream (or was it the first dream?) that he'd had, after which Dino had told him he'd shouted "Rosie" or something akin to it. He could remember the dream clearly but he couldn't figure out why he'd be yelling someone's name--moreover, the name of someone he didn't even know. Or had he been telepathic, and knew the horse's name? He laughed at that. Maybe some things were less believable than aliens.

"Oh, well," he said to himself, "at least it isn't Roselyn."

But he couldn't figure out why he said that.

And that chilled him.

He decided to try and get the horse show and its contestants off his mind; he went over to Adelphic Pi House, the frat house on campus; he figured that place would be empty, since it was usually only used during parties; plus, only a few people actually lived there, all of whom, he knew, must be at the show. He went inside and knocked on all doors; sure enough, it was totally devoid of people. He sighed and, after searching a while for the best spot, found an obviously unoccupied room (there were no weird posters on the walls) upstairs; it was slightly messy but there was a couch at one end, and it was there that he decided to lie down and take a little rest. Someone would come along and find him eventually, as the enrollment list was so short that if someone were missing it would be found out soon enough. So he put his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and drifted off...

* * * * *


Puck attended the horse show, of course; he handed the "Rosie" over to Sidras, though, and told her to put it through the show as he was going to go off to be by himself for a while. [Note--"the 'Rosie'"? I'm not sure if that's a mistake or not.] Sid took the reins and watched as he left; he'd barely even seen any of the other horses. Still, there she was, stuck with an ownerless horse on her hands, so she sighed and, blaming her upbringing on her being such a pushover, turned and led the horse off to the tracks.

Puck, meanwhile, wandered off across campus, making a detour around the almost deserted fairgrounds to the woods out back of the college, near where Anders had found him during the thunderstorm. It was sunny and peaceful now, and he ventured into the woods a ways before finding a stump satisfactorily devoid of insects and sitting down on it to think. He had a sketchpad under one arm and a pencil stuck in the rungs; he pulled these out and opened it up to present a clean, white page. He could only stare at it, then at the woods, then back at the sketchpad again; then, after a while, he began to draw.

He didn't guide his hand; it guided itself, or else was guided by something else which he couldn't see. In any case he found himself drawing the flowing contours of a bird in flight; the wings and head and body evolved into those of a barn owl, its keen black eyes searching the ground below. As soon as he'd finished he stopped and stared at it, dumbfounded; he couldn't quite remember drawing it; it was as if he'd fallen into a trance somehow. And, as far as he knew, he'd never been able to draw that good. Not animals, at least.

Unnerved, he decided to put the sketchbook aside for now and concentrate on the woods instead. It was quiet and peaceful out, the only sounds the chirping of faraway birds and, once in a while, the carryover of the commotion at the horse show, but this was very, very faint. He sighed and, leaning his elbows on his legs, put his head in his hands and stared ahead of him for a long time, tracing the edges of the bountiful plants and trees with his eyes. Everywhere was an explosion of green, dappled with yellow and occasionally brown where the dead ground leaves showed through. A light breeze stirred the leaves and he looked up, taking a deep breath; he noticed a very faint rustle off to his left side, and turned his head to look.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There, not a yard away, stood a young deer, its tail and ears black-tipped. It sniffed the air lightly and was looking right at him, with its large brown eyes, completely unafraid. But the strangest thing was, its coat was otherwise snow white.

Puck just stared back in dumb amazement. He'd heard of animals being curious sometimes, but he'd never thought it would happen to him. Plus, there was the odd coloring of the deer; he'd have said albino, but its eyes were dark. How could that be? Weren't albinos supposed to have pink eyes? Or at least red? And those black markings...

Pushing all of these thoughts out of his head, he slowly reached out a hand towards the deer's nose.

The deer lifted its head ever so slightly, and sniffed his fingers. Before he could reach out to touch it, however, it made a funny little noise, sort of a cross between a snort and a squeak, and, turning away, ambled off leisurely into the woods.

Puck was frozen where he was, unable to move, so stunning was the experience. Animals he'd seen, yes. Weird-colored animals, yes. Wild animals, no--that just didn't happen. Wild deer weren't supposed to come up to you and sniff your hand--that just didn't happen! It must be one of those tame deer from the petting farms one could find occasionally throughout the area. Someone's pet. That would explain it. Such an unusually marked deer must belong to someone. It couldn't be wild. Things like that didn't happen in the wild.

He found now that his legs could move; he stood up, steadying himself against a small sapling, and walked stiffly to the edge of the woods, where they met the campus Green. He turned to look over his shoulder, hoping for one last glimpse of the creature, but he knew that by then it was long gone.

* * * * *


He asked around a bit in an effort to find out where Anders was; nobody really knew, though someone suggested he try the frat house, as Anders was definitely not at the horse show. It sounded like the reasonable place to find Anders, as he'd already checked his room and found it empty. He entered the frat house and started looking around, banging on doors and calling out. He felt he had to tell someone about the strange experience, before he forgot it. As if he could. [Note--meaning, "As if he could forget it."]

Finally he found one door slightly open and looked inside. Anders was inside, asleep on the couch. Puck went in and shook his shoulder roughly.

"Let me go," Anders murmured softly. "What are you going to do with the horse?"

"It's at the show, Anders," Puck replied, thinking Anders was talking to him. Anders's eyes opened, and he started looking around sleepily, blinking at the light.

"Where am I?" he asked. Then, figuring that out, "What're you doing here?"

"I left Rosie with Sid. I don't like shows very much myself. Listen, Anders, I think I just had this religious experience--"

"That's nice," Anders murmured, turning over on his side. "Tell me in the morning." Puck tugged on his shoulder to turn him back over, exasperated.

"Anders, I want you to hear this! I was out in the woods and I was drawing, only it was like it was someone else was commanding my hand--like I was in a trance or something. I drew this owl in flight--" that sounded like the perfect title for the picture, he thought to himself as he said this "--and it was really good; I didn't think I could draw like that."

Even as he said the word "owl," Puck knew he had Anders hooked. For at that moment the Swede's eyes flew open and he turned over to look up at Puck.

"Then this deer came up to me. It was pure white with these funny black markings on its ears and tail. And it came right up to me and sniffed my hand! Isn't that amazing?" He didn't even notice how childlike he sounded; he was almost bouncing up and down with excitement. [Note--definitely out of character for Puck. This is the same person who in Four P claims, "I used to kill small woodland creatures on my spring break!"]

But Anders's brain was stuck on the owl part. "You said you drew an owl?" he asked. "What kind was it?"

"A barn owl," Puck replied, impatient that Anders found that part more interesting than the deer. "But, Anders, you should've seen this thing--it wasn't an albino--"

Anders swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood up, Puck following. He cut Puck off in mid-sentence.

"I'd like to see this owl."

"Sure, sure, yeah. But about the deer--"

"Damn it, Puck, I don't CARE about the friggin' deer! I want to see the owl!"

Puck fell silent, too confused to be angry. Instead he simply pulled out his sketchbook and handed it to Anders, who flipped through it to the owl drawing. He sucked in his breath and stared at it for several minutes, during which Puck began to grow impatient and started shifting from foot to foot. Finally Anders closed the book and looked up at him. Puck nearly recoiled. There was a very strange look in his eyes, and, judging from his own reflection there, Puck could tell he had the same look.

"Puck, I had this dream," Anders said.

"So did I," Puck found himself replying.

"I don't know what happened. I just know something did."

"That's how I feel."

"I think I should get some more sleep."

"I think so, too."

Anders started to hand back the pad. Puck shook his head numbly.

"Keep the drawing," he said. "I can make another."

Anders ripped the drawing out of the sketchbook and handed the book back. Puck took it and placed it absently under his arm. They just continued staring at each other for a while.

"I'll see you around," Anders finally replied.

"Yeah. You too," Puck said. It was another few moments before either of them did anything; then Anders walked slowly past Puck and out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. Puck didn't even turn around to watch him go. He just stared at the spot Anders had previously occupied.

Doesn't matter if you shut the doors anyway, his befuddled mind thought. They get in every time.

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