(Un)Time and (Un)Place - Chapter 1
On Strange Shores
‘How many have you been too?’ Maximilian said. The air smelled different here, sweeter somehow, richer. Am I ahead, behind, sideways? How would I know? The roads were different, the sky was familiar but the colour was off, the buildings were shorter and made of timber rather than stone and iron. The sea was the same, lapping against the beach Maximilian had woken up on. Cato had found him, the question how would never be answered. Why didn’t we arrive together? The gulls squawked rather than chirruped.
‘Two. Yours and mine,’ Cato said. The man had aged in the ten years it had taken for Maximilian to turn from boy to man. What was once a bristle of dark chestnut hair was streaked with grey. Alert eyes had begun to fade and now sat behind a pair of tinted glasses. Smooth skin had creased.
‘Liar.’
Cato didn’t respond.
At least he isn’t making the lie bigger. ‘Where is he then? Is he not here?’
‘No. He hasn’t been here for ten years.’
‘Have you seen him?’
‘No.’
‘Liar,’ Maximilian kicked a can. It bounced, spun, and rolled into the shade of a cottage. The place was a mirage of the past.
‘Why would I lie?’
‘To protect yourself,’ Maximilian said, with less venom than he felt.
‘From what?’
Maximilian clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his auburn hair. It had been days since he’d arrived to this strange place, strange time. Everything was wrong, yet familiar. Like he’d returned home but someone else was living in it. ‘I don’t know,’ his voice low. Maximilian knew Cato was hiding something.
‘I did as Alberich asked me. I watched out for you and now you’re looking for him. Why?’ Cato said, eyes peering over the rim of his glasses. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you here,’ he muttered.
‘Because… he isn’t dead. He didn’t abandon mum or me. I don’t care what she says, he didn’t,’ Maximilian said. It didn’t matter how long it had been, didn’t matter he hadn’t managed to summon the courage till now.
‘That I know is true.’
‘Then where is he?’ Maximilian asked again. Cato had to know, he was the last one to see him, the one to tell him when Alberich had gone missing. Ten years is a long time.
‘If I knew that we wouldn’t be here. If he knew how to choose the destination he’d be here.’
‘But you know how to choose a destination so how would dad not know?’ Maximilian said.
‘When we find him, we can ask him.’
‘How do we do that? Infinite places, infinite times, Cato. No maps, not even a direction,’ Maximilian had read enough of his father’s writings that it made his head swim. He didn’t get it, he wasn’t sure his dad got it judging from the old journals. He wished he could read them again, if only to have his father with him in spirit but his mum had burned them in a drunken rage years ago. One of her many attempts to “move on”. It never worked. You can’t kill a memory. He wondered if she was coping with her son vanishing too. She’ll be in the bottle, Maximilian’s guilt was smothered by anger.
‘I don’t know how, yet, but we have no other choice, Max.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ he said. ‘Mum call’s me that,’ he said quieter.
Cato nodded and crossed his arms. ‘Fine, Ilian. Do you want to go home?’
Maximilian scratched his cheek. Mum would be happy, for an hour. Then the bottle would return. His friends had all left and there was no more family. ‘No.’
‘Rhea… she’ll…’ Cato swallowed hard.
‘I know. But to help her I need to find dad. Mum’ll have to deal with it until then,’ he hated thinking about his mother. When his dad had first gone missing she was optimistic. That faded within a month and within two everyone had practically given up. Without a body Alberich was never pronounced dead, there was no funeral, no remembrance. Gradually friends drifted, then family. Rhea was a wreck from dawn till dusk, from spring to winter. The bottle saved her. The bottle ruined her. Maximilian stood in the haze of memory that had been his life since he was eight. Always looking backward, always trying to fix the past, but the man who could fix it wasn’t there.
‘You believe me that I haven’t seen Alberich then?’ Cato broke the silence.
The tone burrowed under Maximilian’s skin. ‘Not really but what choice do I have?’ His heart pounded. ‘I can’t go home without you. I don’t know when or where I am. I don’t know anybody. I have to believe you,’ Maximilian screamed. A silence stretched between them.
Cato threw his head back and howled a full and hearty laugh at the sky.
Maximilian kicked the cobbles, scuffing the toe of his boot. What’s so funny? A stew of rage and grief bubbled up his throat but words never came, only bile.
‘You have no choice. None. What a depressing truth,’ Cato caught a tear with one finger. ‘Alberich would have laughed at that too,’ Cato paused, his solemn expression reasserting itself. ‘Ilian, we will find him, whether he’s in this world or another.’
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I like this, Oscar. It's hopeful...and hopefully...the beginning of something? As a serial, it's the perfect "cliffhanger" finish. The reader wants to know what's going to happen. You've given just enough so that the reader can sort things out. I like how you held back that they were brothers. It's great. It's different from your other stuff, and maybe I like that, too? The length seems perfect as well. How many words is that? But do follow this up. And announce it. That's what the Notes are for.
(On a side note, I've always liked the name Oscar. I used to work with a guy named Oscar, and his name always reminded me of Oscapar Blacktooth, a Viking bad guy out of H. Rider Haggard's "Eric Brighteyes", from when I was in my late twenties. I haven't seen another copy since.)
Seems to be a start of something. Lots of open threads to pull on. How do they travel? Where are they from? How did Ilian get to this place? And more... good stuff.