Post by Scott on Jul 31, 2010 16:29:24 GMT -5
Here's a rough draft of a short story I want to submit to Apex Magazine. Comment plz
Gray Towers
‘I’m never going to reach the glass tower,’ Abe told himself. It seemed like he was going over the same hill, around the same bend, across the same small bridge over the same creek, past the same groves of trees, stepping over the same fissures in the ancient road down which the strange old lady had sent him. But perhaps it was his unfamiliarity with the road and the region combined with his growing fatigue that created this idea within his mind. He could not sleep much at all anymore; he now got less sleep per night than the first time he had laid upon that asphalt to rest. It was also getting colder, and that meant dry weather; he was stopping for longer periods whenever he came to a running creek or a house with a well or stock tank.
It also may have been that he was becoming more afraid of animals coming near him in the night, even though the dry weather made fires easier to maintain. He pondered a number of reasons, but there was one which his mind refused to approach: the fact that he hadn’t seen another human in weeks, compounded by the tragedy he had pushed to the back of his thoughts before beginning his journey.
This was why, on this day, it comforted him greatly when his father joined him on the road. It overjoyed him, in fact, since he had thought his father dead. He was in such a state of bliss that he did not think to ask his father why he was there; he might ask later, and it was most likely that his father had been sent after him, and, inquiring of him along the way, was able to catch up to him, knowing where he was going.
They talked all the while, his father speaking, as he always had, about what it would take to become a man as Abe grew older. Abe did not mind, despite how strange it was that his father would be talking about that under such circumstances. It soothed him, despite (or, perhaps, because of) the countless times he had heard it all before.
“You have to be able to admit when you’re wrong. Don’t let pride ruin you in that way. But when you know in your heart of hearts that you’re right, don’t ever let anyone make you doubt it. Know what you know, and know how to defend it.”
They continued along in this manner for hours, Abe’s father delivering his myriad of maxims and displaying his characteristic disgust for silence between two people. He also told Abe about his plans to rebuild the dilapidated barn, and made amused gestures and hints about rumors of affectation for Abe from someone in their town. Abe’s father did not approve of how long his hair was getting.
His mother soon joined them. This delighted Abe even further, as she also was supposed to be dead. They were all supposed to be dead. He could still see it in the back of his mind: lightning hitting the four corners of the church, the rapid conflagration, the collapse of the roof upon all of them. Abe’s weeping and wailing as the rain quenched the embers, the solemn stares of the strange lady and the men in black glasses who accompanied her.
His mother smiled at him, pulled his sagging collar back up around his neck, brushed his jacket off.
“My little boy, grown up so fast!”
“And when you’ve made that commitment to a woman forever, honor it. Honor it above everything, even your own life.”
“You must be freezing out here! Let’s get you inside as soon as possible.”
There were houses appearing more frequently in this region; certainly they would come across one soon. They did. Abe spotted it high on a hill to the east as they came around another bend, one he now wasn’t sure if he had come around before.
“I know,” said his mother, “that you and your brother don’t agree with your father and me about that terrible woman. Please stay away from her. Your parents may be old and weary, but we know lies when we see them. We’d love for things to change, to have a chance to go back to better days, but this woman is a forked-tongued serpent in disguise. As your mother I beg you not to go near her.”
Something stirred within Abe at these words. It ought to have been obvious by now that he had gone to the strange lady, had taken up her offer to participate in what could be the restoration of the world, by the very fact that he was on this road, and so far from home.
As they turned onto the road leading up to the house, Abe stopped. Surely this was not his own house? He stared in disbelief.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
“Come on, son, let’s get in there and get a fire started.”
Before Abe had a chance to move, a figure was seen approaching from the house. Almost simultaneously, an immense sound was heard, a sound like the collective groans of a dying world. Abe cringed and held his ears, while it seemed that neither his father nor mother could hear it. It subsided within a few seconds, and Abe stood straight again, looking around for what might have made the terrible noise.
As the figure drew near, Abe recognized it as his brother. “The gray towers,” said Aaron.
“The what?” said Abe.
Aaron smiled. “Have you found what you’ve been looking for?”
“No. Sometimes I don’t know if I will. I’ve been out here for weeks and now I don’t know if I’m even going the right way.”
Aaron placed his hand on Abe’s shoulder. “You won’t find anything there.”
“What do you mean?”
“You won’t find anything, because there is nothing to find. No answer, no meaning, no cause.”
Abe shook his head. “But you were so eager to look into all of the things we found! You were going to be the one to figure out what brought about the end of the Former Days!”
“I looked long and hard. There is no answer. You believe your own journey to be about the same thing, but you’ve been sent out here to die. The people of the Former Days did not act with any kind of reason when they broke into violence, and they left no trace but the memories of their children that survived, now mostly dead or senile old folks. It’s all pointless.”
Abe shook his head again. “No. I won’t believe that. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I won’t have it.”
Without understanding why, Abe then cried, “You did not die in vain!”
Aaron looked up at Abe. “No,” he replied, “but you will.”
Abe became short of breath and fell to his knees. “Am I…” he gasped, “am I…dead? Or am I dreaming?”
“I don’t know.”
Aaron walked past him and down the road, the way that Abe and his parents had been traveling. Their mother and father were gone. Abe followed a few steps behind him for a while, no words being uttered.
He could no longer remember the name of the strange old lady that had sent him along his way. She had simply appeared in his town one day, claiming to know where and how one could discover how the Former Days had ended. She wanted to give a sign to all peoples around that hope to restore the glory of the Former Days was still possible. He could still see the faces of most of the townspeople, including his parents, as they protested her proposals.
He, Aaron, and a few others had felt differently, and he now remembered when they had gone to her and offered their participation.
After an hour or so Abe felt a presence at his right side. He turned and saw Anita, the first person he had met along his journey, hiding out with a few families in that town ruled by bandits. “Anita! You’re here!”
She turned to him and smiled the most innocent smile. “We meet again. It’s so nice to see a familiar face. You look tired. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you something to eat and drink. I’ve been hoping, in a way, that you would come back. I enjoy talking to you much more than anyone else here.”
“It’s fine, I don’t need anything. It’s so nice to see your face again as well,” Abe replied, now more confused than ever. “Wait…if you’re here…are you dead?” He began breathing heavily, scared of the answer, if one was to come.
She did not respond, but simply walked beside him silently, slipping her hand into his. She seemed so peaceful, a peace that had held him in rapture during his brief time with her. It amazed him that she could feel such a way in constant danger of bandits, of starvation, of disease.
At length he sensed another presence to his left. He turned to see a bearded man not much older than himself. “Oh, hey Tim.” Abe was flustered. “I’m…I’m sorry about what I did to your car. I didn’t think I could trust you back there.”
Tim’s reply was made in his usually lazy style, the style that Abe had noticed while travelling through the ancient town where Johnny lived alone. “It’s alright, man. It’s not like I have much else to do! Might as well carry my harvest in my own hands. Besides, I got plenty of other cars that I can take parts from. Where are we going, anyway? You never told me.”
“I’m not sure anymore.” Abe walked quickly to catch up to Aaron.
“You know,” said Aaron, “I think Clarissa really likes you. You oughta talk to her next Sunday, alone, if you can manage that. I’m kind of jealous, I gotta say.”
“Clarissa? Aaron, what’s going on? Oh wait, that’s right, you don’t know. Great.” He stopped for a moment and clenched his fists in frustration. As he stared ahead the terrible noise he had heard before came back, drawn out even longer this time. Once it ended he removed his hands from his ears and ran after Aaron, who was now some distance ahead, not having heard it. Abe ran a little ahead of him and then stopped, quickly turned around, and yelled “Stop!” There was, however, now no one there. He threw up his arms in desperation and rubbed his hands along his face and through his hair, looking around him for any possible sign of hope, any kind of answer. He needed something to hold onto, something that wouldn’t disappear. Beside the road sat a young woman he had never seen before.
“He was beating us,” she said. “One day he beat Nina so badly that she died before the next morning. When he went out to the outhouse I grabbed his pistol and shot him while he was sitting there. I grabbed food and water and left as quickly as I could. It’s been four days, and I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to see anyone again when I came to that corner there and saw you standing here, staring at those gray towers with the blades that turn in the wind. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know what I would have done. I’d probably have died out here. I know nothing about surviving out here by myself.”
He turned around and saw them. The gray towers, each with three blades that turned when the wind gusted. The horrible noise returned, louder than ever; as Abe fought to keep it out, everything began to spin, and the world became grayer and grayer as the agonizing cacophony drowned out his terrified screams.
He opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back. He was paralyzed, only able to move his eyes and his lungs, it seemed. He smelled burnt flesh and looked to the right to see the source of the smell, which was his right hand and forearm.
Abe had strayed from the road, taking the dirt path to the base of the ancient gray towers. Everything rushed back to him: the metal shed, the old vehicles, the strange broken rubber rope that spat blue sparks every time the wind gusted and the gray towers moaned from the motion of their ancient parts. He had reached for the rope in curiosity when the towers bellowed and his walk amongst his past had begun.
He wanted so much to believe that it had been real. Had it been real? He wanted to believe that it was truly his parents, his brother, Anita, and Tim that he had spoken to and touched, not images in his mind or even spirits visiting him. But the stretch of road on which he encountered them lay many miles back, and there had been no house on that hill, but only an old cross that had drawn his attention. He was hungry, dehydrated, truly alone. Now he lay immobile in the red sand and patches of grass on that rise in the midst of the empty rolling prairie, his arm charred. Whatever the Aaron that he had seen had been, ghost or otherwise, it was right. He was going to die in vain, finding nothing that he had sought.
The girl! Was she there, now, with no one to guide her, no one to protect her? Would she die out there because he had not followed one simple instruction: stay on the road? He only wished at that moment that he could turn his head to look back at that spot where she sat. Instead, he continued staring at the sky. He watched the buzzards circling overhead.
A gust of wind swept over him.
Gray Towers
‘I’m never going to reach the glass tower,’ Abe told himself. It seemed like he was going over the same hill, around the same bend, across the same small bridge over the same creek, past the same groves of trees, stepping over the same fissures in the ancient road down which the strange old lady had sent him. But perhaps it was his unfamiliarity with the road and the region combined with his growing fatigue that created this idea within his mind. He could not sleep much at all anymore; he now got less sleep per night than the first time he had laid upon that asphalt to rest. It was also getting colder, and that meant dry weather; he was stopping for longer periods whenever he came to a running creek or a house with a well or stock tank.
It also may have been that he was becoming more afraid of animals coming near him in the night, even though the dry weather made fires easier to maintain. He pondered a number of reasons, but there was one which his mind refused to approach: the fact that he hadn’t seen another human in weeks, compounded by the tragedy he had pushed to the back of his thoughts before beginning his journey.
This was why, on this day, it comforted him greatly when his father joined him on the road. It overjoyed him, in fact, since he had thought his father dead. He was in such a state of bliss that he did not think to ask his father why he was there; he might ask later, and it was most likely that his father had been sent after him, and, inquiring of him along the way, was able to catch up to him, knowing where he was going.
They talked all the while, his father speaking, as he always had, about what it would take to become a man as Abe grew older. Abe did not mind, despite how strange it was that his father would be talking about that under such circumstances. It soothed him, despite (or, perhaps, because of) the countless times he had heard it all before.
“You have to be able to admit when you’re wrong. Don’t let pride ruin you in that way. But when you know in your heart of hearts that you’re right, don’t ever let anyone make you doubt it. Know what you know, and know how to defend it.”
They continued along in this manner for hours, Abe’s father delivering his myriad of maxims and displaying his characteristic disgust for silence between two people. He also told Abe about his plans to rebuild the dilapidated barn, and made amused gestures and hints about rumors of affectation for Abe from someone in their town. Abe’s father did not approve of how long his hair was getting.
His mother soon joined them. This delighted Abe even further, as she also was supposed to be dead. They were all supposed to be dead. He could still see it in the back of his mind: lightning hitting the four corners of the church, the rapid conflagration, the collapse of the roof upon all of them. Abe’s weeping and wailing as the rain quenched the embers, the solemn stares of the strange lady and the men in black glasses who accompanied her.
His mother smiled at him, pulled his sagging collar back up around his neck, brushed his jacket off.
“My little boy, grown up so fast!”
“And when you’ve made that commitment to a woman forever, honor it. Honor it above everything, even your own life.”
“You must be freezing out here! Let’s get you inside as soon as possible.”
There were houses appearing more frequently in this region; certainly they would come across one soon. They did. Abe spotted it high on a hill to the east as they came around another bend, one he now wasn’t sure if he had come around before.
“I know,” said his mother, “that you and your brother don’t agree with your father and me about that terrible woman. Please stay away from her. Your parents may be old and weary, but we know lies when we see them. We’d love for things to change, to have a chance to go back to better days, but this woman is a forked-tongued serpent in disguise. As your mother I beg you not to go near her.”
Something stirred within Abe at these words. It ought to have been obvious by now that he had gone to the strange lady, had taken up her offer to participate in what could be the restoration of the world, by the very fact that he was on this road, and so far from home.
As they turned onto the road leading up to the house, Abe stopped. Surely this was not his own house? He stared in disbelief.
“What’s the matter, dear?”
“Come on, son, let’s get in there and get a fire started.”
Before Abe had a chance to move, a figure was seen approaching from the house. Almost simultaneously, an immense sound was heard, a sound like the collective groans of a dying world. Abe cringed and held his ears, while it seemed that neither his father nor mother could hear it. It subsided within a few seconds, and Abe stood straight again, looking around for what might have made the terrible noise.
As the figure drew near, Abe recognized it as his brother. “The gray towers,” said Aaron.
“The what?” said Abe.
Aaron smiled. “Have you found what you’ve been looking for?”
“No. Sometimes I don’t know if I will. I’ve been out here for weeks and now I don’t know if I’m even going the right way.”
Aaron placed his hand on Abe’s shoulder. “You won’t find anything there.”
“What do you mean?”
“You won’t find anything, because there is nothing to find. No answer, no meaning, no cause.”
Abe shook his head. “But you were so eager to look into all of the things we found! You were going to be the one to figure out what brought about the end of the Former Days!”
“I looked long and hard. There is no answer. You believe your own journey to be about the same thing, but you’ve been sent out here to die. The people of the Former Days did not act with any kind of reason when they broke into violence, and they left no trace but the memories of their children that survived, now mostly dead or senile old folks. It’s all pointless.”
Abe shook his head again. “No. I won’t believe that. I don’t know what you’re doing, but I won’t have it.”
Without understanding why, Abe then cried, “You did not die in vain!”
Aaron looked up at Abe. “No,” he replied, “but you will.”
Abe became short of breath and fell to his knees. “Am I…” he gasped, “am I…dead? Or am I dreaming?”
“I don’t know.”
Aaron walked past him and down the road, the way that Abe and his parents had been traveling. Their mother and father were gone. Abe followed a few steps behind him for a while, no words being uttered.
He could no longer remember the name of the strange old lady that had sent him along his way. She had simply appeared in his town one day, claiming to know where and how one could discover how the Former Days had ended. She wanted to give a sign to all peoples around that hope to restore the glory of the Former Days was still possible. He could still see the faces of most of the townspeople, including his parents, as they protested her proposals.
He, Aaron, and a few others had felt differently, and he now remembered when they had gone to her and offered their participation.
After an hour or so Abe felt a presence at his right side. He turned and saw Anita, the first person he had met along his journey, hiding out with a few families in that town ruled by bandits. “Anita! You’re here!”
She turned to him and smiled the most innocent smile. “We meet again. It’s so nice to see a familiar face. You look tired. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you something to eat and drink. I’ve been hoping, in a way, that you would come back. I enjoy talking to you much more than anyone else here.”
“It’s fine, I don’t need anything. It’s so nice to see your face again as well,” Abe replied, now more confused than ever. “Wait…if you’re here…are you dead?” He began breathing heavily, scared of the answer, if one was to come.
She did not respond, but simply walked beside him silently, slipping her hand into his. She seemed so peaceful, a peace that had held him in rapture during his brief time with her. It amazed him that she could feel such a way in constant danger of bandits, of starvation, of disease.
At length he sensed another presence to his left. He turned to see a bearded man not much older than himself. “Oh, hey Tim.” Abe was flustered. “I’m…I’m sorry about what I did to your car. I didn’t think I could trust you back there.”
Tim’s reply was made in his usually lazy style, the style that Abe had noticed while travelling through the ancient town where Johnny lived alone. “It’s alright, man. It’s not like I have much else to do! Might as well carry my harvest in my own hands. Besides, I got plenty of other cars that I can take parts from. Where are we going, anyway? You never told me.”
“I’m not sure anymore.” Abe walked quickly to catch up to Aaron.
“You know,” said Aaron, “I think Clarissa really likes you. You oughta talk to her next Sunday, alone, if you can manage that. I’m kind of jealous, I gotta say.”
“Clarissa? Aaron, what’s going on? Oh wait, that’s right, you don’t know. Great.” He stopped for a moment and clenched his fists in frustration. As he stared ahead the terrible noise he had heard before came back, drawn out even longer this time. Once it ended he removed his hands from his ears and ran after Aaron, who was now some distance ahead, not having heard it. Abe ran a little ahead of him and then stopped, quickly turned around, and yelled “Stop!” There was, however, now no one there. He threw up his arms in desperation and rubbed his hands along his face and through his hair, looking around him for any possible sign of hope, any kind of answer. He needed something to hold onto, something that wouldn’t disappear. Beside the road sat a young woman he had never seen before.
“He was beating us,” she said. “One day he beat Nina so badly that she died before the next morning. When he went out to the outhouse I grabbed his pistol and shot him while he was sitting there. I grabbed food and water and left as quickly as I could. It’s been four days, and I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to see anyone again when I came to that corner there and saw you standing here, staring at those gray towers with the blades that turn in the wind. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know what I would have done. I’d probably have died out here. I know nothing about surviving out here by myself.”
He turned around and saw them. The gray towers, each with three blades that turned when the wind gusted. The horrible noise returned, louder than ever; as Abe fought to keep it out, everything began to spin, and the world became grayer and grayer as the agonizing cacophony drowned out his terrified screams.
He opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back. He was paralyzed, only able to move his eyes and his lungs, it seemed. He smelled burnt flesh and looked to the right to see the source of the smell, which was his right hand and forearm.
Abe had strayed from the road, taking the dirt path to the base of the ancient gray towers. Everything rushed back to him: the metal shed, the old vehicles, the strange broken rubber rope that spat blue sparks every time the wind gusted and the gray towers moaned from the motion of their ancient parts. He had reached for the rope in curiosity when the towers bellowed and his walk amongst his past had begun.
He wanted so much to believe that it had been real. Had it been real? He wanted to believe that it was truly his parents, his brother, Anita, and Tim that he had spoken to and touched, not images in his mind or even spirits visiting him. But the stretch of road on which he encountered them lay many miles back, and there had been no house on that hill, but only an old cross that had drawn his attention. He was hungry, dehydrated, truly alone. Now he lay immobile in the red sand and patches of grass on that rise in the midst of the empty rolling prairie, his arm charred. Whatever the Aaron that he had seen had been, ghost or otherwise, it was right. He was going to die in vain, finding nothing that he had sought.
The girl! Was she there, now, with no one to guide her, no one to protect her? Would she die out there because he had not followed one simple instruction: stay on the road? He only wished at that moment that he could turn his head to look back at that spot where she sat. Instead, he continued staring at the sky. He watched the buzzards circling overhead.
A gust of wind swept over him.