“Holy fuck,” I exclaimed and struggled to regain my balance. A few pirouetting steps later, I had successfully prevented another accident and stared, wide eyed, through the windows. Dazzling colours and strange, twisted shadows distracted me from the throbbing pain in my leg as I pressed my nose against the cold glass. A fairy tale, Central Park had turned into a tableau from an honest to god fairy tale.
I still recognised the streets I used for my morning run, but the Gill, the Great Lawn, even the Reservoir… the immense body of water sparkled under the sun like a massive gem and a purple and golden sheen turned the late morning light into a kaleidoscope of magical colours I had never seen before. At its centre, an island had appeared, shrouded in thick, bluish swaths of fog my eyes couldn’t penetrate, protected by a gargantuan creature whose shadow moved silently beneath the waves, its scaly back breaking the surface for time to time.
Further south, the Gill had become a quagmire of towering ash-trees, with long moss braids that almost looked like beards, and small, frothing streams. In between I spotted meadows with beautifully blooming flowers, their petals glowing with an unearthly hue. The crisscrossing park roads were almost entirely overgrown and the people meandering through the otherworldly landscaped seemed… dazed, as if they couldn’t see what was directly before their eyes.
In between the Reservoir and the Gill, the Great Lawn had turned into a labyrinth of astronomically large roots which fed directly into the tallest tree I could imagine. Reaching up to tickle the underside of the white summer clouds, the colossal oak seemed like a protective father to me, spreading its roots to embrace the whole park. The underside of its leafs shone with a warm, silvery light and the longer I stared, to more convinced I became that it was actually moving its roots, accommodating the kids and families who enjoyed one of the last warm days of the year. Whenever one of them came close to the aged, gnarly roots, a visible tremor shook the oak’s bark and it shifted out of the way, preventing anyone from stumbling into it by chance and if they so happened to be too fast for the ancient tree, its roots became translucent for a moment and they simply passed through without ever noticing what had happened.
A warm, soft hand brushed against my cheek and jolted me from my reverie. Gasping, I turned around and came face to face with my mother, a deep seated worry in her eyes.
“Darling,” she whispered, “are you alright? You’re white as a sheet and you’re sweating. Should we call the hospital? Are you dizzy?” She wrapped one arm around my shoulders and gently steered me away from the windows. “Come on, sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water. You probably shouldn’t be standing this much. You must still be exhausted.” No… not really. Shocked, at a loss for words, amazed, a little frightened, curious, happy, dazed… all of the above and more but exhausted wasn’t one them. Truth be told, I felt more energised than I had since I had downed an entire litre of an energy drink in one go. It had been a stupid dare, don’t ask.
My mum pushed me towards the couch and made me sit between a veritable fortress of cushions and blankets. While she scurried off towards the kitchen, my sister slumped down at my side, shooting me a questioning glance. I shook my head slightly, indicating that I wasn’t overly keen on talking about it and to her credit, she let it slide. At least for now. My dad, on the other hand, wasn’t as pliable and he quickly put his hand against my forehead, continuing the bombardment of questions my mum had just ceased to provide. “Evee, how are you feeling? Do you have problems keeping your balance? Have you already slipped in your room?” He paused and turned his head away from me. For a second I believed he had run out of steam but he called over his shoulder:
“Clara, I’m staying home today! They can very well put the final touches to the Bayer deal without me.”
“No,” my mum immediately replied, her voice getting louder while she made her way back. “It’s bad enough that I’m not there. They’ll manage to screw up last minute and that’d be half a year down the drain. We’ll call you immediately if anything happens, won’t we girls,” she added in that special kind of undertone parents used when they wanted you to know that you, of course, had the liberty to say whatever you want, but your allowance might suffer accordingly.
A spark of anger singed my insides when I was once again reminded where her priorities truly lay. I understood that somebody had to put bread on the table, but honestly, they didn’t have to work at all anymore, they were just addicted to it. And while I appreciated that they had watched over me while I had been unconscious, a full day with my whole family afterwards didn’t seem like too much to ask.
Maybe I was a tad ungrateful, but the switch from worried mother to immaculate business woman had once again caught me off guard and I was peeved she trusted her own employees so little. If they were that incompetent, she should fire them and get new ones who could actually do the job they were paid for… like I said, maybe I was a bit unreasonable, but I believed I had every right to be. It wasn’t everyday your daughter returned from the dead, now, was it?
Ultimately, I kept my misgivings to myself, whether they were justified or not. I inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of our home, a mixture of soap, leather and perfume, before I said:
“Sure, don’t worry about me, dad. I’m fine, really. It’s just… I think I’m not up to running down the stairs quite yet. I stumbled and I was dizzy for a moment,” I echoed my mum’s words. “But honestly, I’m alright, now. No need to make a fuss. I’ll just take it slow for a couple of days… which reminds me, do I have to go back to school this week?”
“No…,” my dad slowly replied, torn between his responsibilities for me and his company as his eyes travelled from my mum to me and back again. “Probably not even next week,” he added. “We’ll see how you’re feeling come Sunday. Are you really sure? I know your mum makes it sound like the end of the world, but if you need me, I’ll stay here and to hell with that deal.” I smiled at him. He really was precious. Most of the time. A pity he wasn’t around more often.
“Get going already, the sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back home. I’ll be fine, besides, with mum and Vic watching over me there’s hardly anything that can happen now, is there?” He held my gaze for a moment longer.
“If you say so, but promise me, don’t try to play hero, if you’re feeling unwell or dizzy again, tell one of them, alright?”
“I promise,” I replied and leaned forward to peck his cheek. “Now shoo, if you’re that worried, you can buy some ice cream on your way back. Chunky Monkey, if they have any.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“Sure. The doc said you should eat more in any case. I’m off then.” He hugged me tightly and kissed his wife. “I’ll try to be back before 6, but no promises. You know how it can be.”
“We all do by now,” my sister mumble under her breath, quietly enough that only I could hear her.
A few seconds later we heard the door and my mum took the chance to vanish towards the kitchen again, calling over her shoulder: “I know we don’t have that much but like your dad said, you’re supposed to eat more. I’ll make some sandwiches. Just relax, I’ll be back in a sec.”
“Thanks, tuna and capers if we still have them.”
“Sure, hon. I’ll make enough for the three of us.” Her last words were already drowned out by slamming cupboard doors.
“Ugh,” Victoria said at my side, “capers and tuna? And here I was, hoping a hit on the noggin might change your strange appetites.”
“Better than noodles with sweet cream,” I retorted with a smile but turned serious almost immediately again. “Hey, uh, Vic, have you… did you happen to take a stroll through the park while I was in the hospital?”
“What? Of course. Not all of us can keep our figure with two training sessions a week. Besides… I needed the runs to clear my mind. I took our usual route every morning. Wanna join me tomorrow again?”
“Not sure if I’m up to that, yet, but if I can, I definitely will. Did you… have you noticed anything strange?”
“You mean other than the usual junkies and some disgusting leftovers from the night before? No… why? Is that… am I going to find out why you suddenly stumbled down the stairs when you looked out the windows?” I quickly shot a glance toward the kitchen entrance but my mum had just turned on the mixer and there was no way in hell she’d be able to overhear us.
“Maybe… but first you’ve got to promise me that you won’t tell anyone, not a soul and that you’re going to take me seriously, no matter how outlandish my tale might sound.” She turned to face me fully and promised without hesitation:
“Of course. It can hardly be any worse than the time when you painted the Huawei contracts black and I had to cover, can it?” I rolled my eyes.
“You’ve no idea. Let me ask a question first. Aside from the late night talks about spirituality and wonders… do you actually believe in the supernatural?” To her credit, she really thought about my question.
“Depends, I’d need an example to say for sure. There definitely are things we can’t explain and some of them might appear like… magic, but in general, no. Why? Have you had a near death experience?” “I wish… you wanted an example, right? So… how about mind reading?” She stared at me, unsure if I was joking but when she saw my anxious expression, she bit her tongue.
“Some… some people see more than others, you know that. But actual mind reading? No, I don’t think that’s a thing. But now… Evee, what have you heard?”
“That’s not that important right now and can basically still be explained as a subconscious realisation, I think. Do me a favour, think of a number, any number.” She raised an eyebrow sceptically but obediently closed her eyes.
I had no clue what I was supposed to do now, but the few times I had actually managed to hear thoughts, it had been a combination of curiosity, eye contact and some form of strong emotion. All things I could easily replicate with my sister. I already was curious as all hells and while I watched her concentrate, I recalled all the small things she had done for me and also the important bits, like being there for me when we had been left alone once again and I had been afraid or staying home with me instead of going out when I had felt lonely.
“Open your eyes and look at me,” I whispered. She did and the very instant I found her gaze, my world stuttered and splintered.
“156731,” I intoned apathetically. “58932… 713… 78912,” I blinked, looked at her and murmured: “could you please pick on? That’s giving me a headache.” She turned pale and gulped.
“You’ve got to be… is that some kind of trick? Evee, I swear to god, if you’re pulling my leg right now…”
“Honestly, do you expect me to be joking about this? Do I look like I am? I’m kinda scared and honestly pretty much at my wit’s end.” She shook her head slowly and buried her face in her hands.
“That’s not… you can’t be… god, that’s simply impossible.”
“Says the girl whose sister woke up with gems for eyes and a self mending skull. Is it really that unbelievable? From where I’m sitting, stranger things have happened recently,” I replied dryly.
“I… you…,” she was starting to hyperventilate and I quickly took her hand.
“Calm down, that’s not helping, quite the contrary. Slow breaths, ground yourself.” She squeezed my fingers in response and after half a minute the colour slowly returned to her face. Just in time to watch my mum return from her hunting trip, a tray laden with half a dozen sandwiches, proof of her successful endeavour. “Come on girls, lunch,” she chirped and set them down on the table.
The meal was an exhausting affair. Victoria was still reeling and to keep my mum occupied and convince her that I wasn’t feeling weak anymore, I kept on chattering like a waterfall until my mouth became dry. In the end, it had been worth it. She was considerably more relaxed when I finished my last sandwich, the fourth to be precise and I wouldn’t even have minded another one, if there had been any left. I truly was more hungry than I could remember ever being before.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to lie down for a while,” I finally said and pushed back my chair. “You invited the Donovans tonight and I’d prefer not nodding off in the middle of a conversation.” Vicky immediately scrambled to her feet and added:
“I’ll tug her in and clean the dishes afterwards.” My mum shrugged, already used to our bond. In a way, Victoria had been more of a mother to me than her and she knew it, the lady was smart as hell, after all.
“Sure, do you want me to wake you up?”
“I’ll set an alarm, don’t bother. Thanks mum.” I strode to her side and kissed her cheek. “For everything, I love you.” She smiled shyly and returned the gesture.
“Love you, too, princess.” She used the pet name Victoria had given me. “Sweet dreams.”
We made our way up the stairs and from the corner of my eyes I realised that Central Park was still looking like a fantasy landscape I couldn’t even begin to understand. With a shrug, I turned away, deciding that I’d be best served with ignoring that particular bit of craziness until I had figured out what was a truly going on with me. Giant trees, impressive as they were, felt much less daunting than the more personal changes I had experienced. And honestly, the both things were probably related, anyways. Two and two equals four, after all.
The second floor of our apartment consisted of a short, well lit corridor, the sun pouring in through the western windows, and two doors. My room was on the left and the identical twin of Victoria’s. It was huge, with a small balcony, hidden behind shuttered glass windows that also served as a door and an en-suite bathroom as well as a walk-in wardrobe. I had a queen sized bed, several Pop-Art pictures and van Gogh imitations on the walls, an antique, sturdy bureau with a pretty decent laptop on it and a small couch with the accompanying armchairs and a low table. Unsurprisingly, my favourite colour was purple, which was reflected in the bed linen and cushions, as well as the pictures.
“Take a seat, I’ll be back in a sec,” I said and headed for the bath, ready to slip back into my pyjamas. I truly intended to meditate for an hour or two but I imagined I’d have to satisfy Vic’s curiosity beforehand, otherwise she’d be nagging at me constantly and tranquility would be out of the question. Besides, after the bomb I had just dropped, it’d simply be unfair to shut her out.
When I came back, she was sitting on my bed, distractedly twiddling Mister Tibbles’ horns, my draconic, purple plushie, between her fingers. She had given him to me for my fourth birthday, a mighty dragon to fend off the nightmares, when she couldn’t be with me.
“So,” I began while I dropped down beside her, “I assume you’re bursting with questions. Shoot.”