Walking Across the Years
1
Tina Rockland sat at an outdoor table, sipping iced water. It was her day off, and she had decided to treat herself to a light lunch and a movie. She brushed mouse brown hair back from her brow as she waved at her waiter to bring her check. She had already decided to try and make a two o'clock show after her lunch.
As she handed the waiter some of the spending money she had set aside for this field day, she saw a man step into view. She almost dropped the bills in surprise as the man walked along the street. He wore a beige suit, a gold scarf across his chin, a hat pulled low over his eyes, and a short cape hanging from his shoulders.
She knew this man, but it seemed impossible. The last time she had seen him, she had been a little girl. That was a long time ago, and he seemed unchanged from what little she could see.
Tina gathered her purse, giving the waiter a tip so that she could get after the vision from her past. She hurried through the café, and out the main doors. She turned to jog down the sidewalk.
This couldn't be the same man ahead of her as the man from her childhood. It had been almost twenty years since he had saved her life. That one moment had set her on the path of a normal life. She hadn't thought that then when it happened, but over the years she had recovered and built something she actually liked.
"Hey!," Tina called, waving her hand in the air. "Hey!"
The man turned, green eyes glittering under the brim of his hat. The slit that was his mouth curved into a smile. He raised his gloved hand, whether in greeting, or warning, Tina could not tell.
"It's really you," Tina said. "I can't believe it."
"What is there not to believe, Christina Rockland?," said the hollow voice from behind the scarf. "I am a wayfarer in this world, and sometimes meet old friends on my path. I am glad that you are well."
"I never got the chance to thank you," said Tina. "I didn't expect to see you again after you vanished."
The walker nodded in understanding.
"Have you decided what life is about now?," Wayfarer asked as he started along the sidewalk. He held one arm out for Tina to take it if she wanted to.
"Not really," said Tina, taking the arm. A tingle swept up her own arm just as it did years ago. "I went back to school, put myself through college, then got a job that I am good at. I'm even considering buying a house."
"I see that you do not mention any romances in your brief history," said Wayfarer, smiling just above his scarf.
"I don't have time," said Tina. "Work keeps me too busy to date."
He nodded, same bland expression to show that he believed whatever she said. Tina knew that work was an excuse. She couldn't stand to have any man touch her for more than a second. Men repulsed her more than she admitted to herself, or her coworkers.
"What about you?," she asked, changing the subject. "You don't seem to have changed a bit from when I last saw you."
"And I have not," said Wayfarer, smiling slightly. "I am carrying out my responsibilities the same as usual."
"What are your responsibilities?," Tina asked. "I don't remember you saying what kind of job you have."
"It must have slipped my mind," said Wayfarer, pausing to think which path he should take. "I noticed you haven't spoke highly of your own career."
"It's just grunt work as an assistant for a law firm," Tina said. "Long hours, little pay. The usual thing."
"Nothing is ever ordinary, Miss Rockland," said Wayfarer, leading the way across a street, then through a vacant lot before pausing again before a weedy, overgrown yard. "I am afraid I am going to have to leave you now. I have an appointment and I have to handle this alone."
"I'll wait for you here," Tina said. "It's the least I could do."
Wayfarer pulled his hat lower, nodding at her as he went up the walk to the house set back from the street. Paint peeled from its front, porch boards sagging down in a bow, one step missing from the front stoop. Patches of shingles were gone from the roof. He reached for the door knob, turned it, vanished inside silently.
His shadow reluctantly followed in an elongated patch of darkness.
2
Tina waited on the sidewalk, wondering what was behind the strange impulse that had led her here. She hardly knew this man, not even his name. She did know when she needed help he had been there when no one else was.
Sometimes a smell would bring back her father's workshop. Lights caused her to panic if she couldn't see a source. It had been worse right after her parents had disappeared. The passage of time had eased some of her fears until she could manage them without anxiety attacks.
Tina had endured therapy, group meetings, private counseling. Her doctors couldn't help her get at the root of her fears because they didn't understand what she had seen, what her parents had tried to do. She couldn't even explain the strange scar wrapped around her upper arm where something had grabbed her.
Most of all she couldn't explain him, how he had suddenly appeared and freed her. She couldn't explain how he had helped her shut her father's door. They would turn away, trying to disbelief what she had told them.
That was when Tina decided she would have to get better on her own. She went to school, got a degree, buried herself in the mundane world. She still had problems, but they weren't the huge barricades they had been when she was young and alone.
And here he was again as suddenly as the last time she had seen him.
Tina paced the square she waited on for a few minutes. Then she decided that she had waited long enough. She had to know what Wayfarer was doing inside the rundown place. She started up the walk, wincing at the creaking of the porch as she grabbed the front door knob. It refused to turn.
Wayfarer must have locked it behind him.
Tina examined the lock. It didn't look too complicated. She searched her hand bag until she found a small pen knife. She pulled out the blade with a thumbnail. A few seconds of jiggling the blade against the tongue of the lock allowed her to push the door in with her shoulder.
Tina looked around, caught by surprise by the extreme darkness compared to the sunny afternoon outside. She stepped across the threshold, chilled enough to shake as she looked around.
The front hall was in the same condition as the outside, moldy, brown and tattered. A small stack of newspapers covered part of the floor. Empty picture frames hung on the walls. A flick of the light switch next to the door told her the power was off.
Tina crept down the hall, checking the rooms on either side. She couldn't make out any footprints in the carpet of dust on the floor.
Where had Wayfarer gone?
Tina paused in the kitchen at the back of the house. The empty cabinets glared at her as she listened. She thought she heard someone talking below her. She wished she had a flashlight as she followed the voice to a stairwell next to the house's back door. Light drifted up from the cellar, blocked from the upper floor by the wooden steps.
Tina carefully snuck down the stairs, pausing when she had a good view of the room. She didn't like the scene in front of her. Maybe she should have stayed outside on the sidewalk.
3
The basement's floor had a clear circle in the center. All the wreckage of years seemed pushed against the walls. Fox fire light danced at the edge of the circle in small spheres. Writing shimmered under the false flame.
A boy sat in the circle, book clutched in his hands. He was thin, emaciated. His eyes protruded from his face as a red mark reflected the light from the dancing flame. His brown hair tossed in an unseen wind.
Wayfarer stood just below Tina, hand to his face to shield his eyes from the small glare. Shadow covered his expression, but Tina could tell he wasn't pleased with what he had found. It was in the way he held his head, and the set of his shoulders.
"Cole, please release the book," Wayfarer said. "You don't control it. It's controlling you."
"There is not a trace of the boy," said a double voice, young and mature at the same time. "You will be the first to feel my awakening powers."
"Cole, do you want to be used?," said Wayfarer. "There is more to life than giving up after one small defeat. Despair is not the be all of creation."
"Go away, meddler," said the boy, glaring at his beige tormentor. "I will allow you a few more seconds of your life."
Tina knew she had made a mistake following her acquaintance. She should have known that he had appeared on whatever business that took up his time. This was a bad situation that she was going to witness.
"Hey kid!," she called. "What do you think you're messing with? Put down the book, and I'll get you some ice cream from the Baskin-Robbins."
"What kind of ice cream?," the boy asked, voice trembling as he suddenly regained his true persona. "I don't like chocolate."
"What would you like?," Tina asked. "There are thirty-one flavors to pick from."
"No, I won't allow this," the boy said, clutching the book to his slight chest. "I will open the gate. I will unleash the Gatherers for my master."
"What kind of ice cream would you like, Cole?," Tina said, descending the stairs. "I like chocolate chip with cookies and cream on top."
"I don't like chocolate," said the boy. "I want vanilla with sprinkles on them."
"We don't have time for this," said the other voice. "We have to complete our call. We have to finish."
"What kind of sprinkles do you like, Cole?," Tina asked, pausing at the base of the stairs. Her gaze narrowed to only this strange boy sitting in the glowing circle. "I like nuts sometimes."
"I like the hard candy ones," Cole said. "They make your ice cream crunchy and soft at the same time."
"I know exactly what you mean," Tina said, slowly crossing the floor. She tried to keep the fear out of her voice. The other voice might seize that to goad a reaction from Cole, turn him away from her. "I like nuts because they aren't as sweet. Adds flavor to the ice cream."
"Silence, woman," said the other voice out of Cole's mouth. "You won't have to worry about sweets when I am done."
"I want ice cream," said Cole, tears drifted from his glowing eyes. "I want it now."
"Put the book down, and give me your hand, Cole," said Tina, holding her hand just outside of the glowing border. "I'll get you all the ice cream that you want."
"Promise?," Cole asked.
"I cross my heart," said Tina.
Cole put the book down in the center of the circle. He stood up, holding out his arms. Tina grabbed him with both arms, hugging him close. The cellar shook dust down on them as the book raged.
"I think that's enough of that," Wayfarer said, stepping in front of Cole and Tina. His hands gestured energy from the air to counter the dancing rainbow from the floor. A flash washed over the three, blinding Tina as she tried to look away.
epilogue
He stood in a shadow, smiling slightly as looked across the street. Tina Rockland and Cole Allen sat on a bench, talking like longtime friends as they licked ice cream from cones. Tina laughed, the first sign of mirth he had noticed from her since they had first met.
It was a small piece of deception to let her think that their meeting was chance. He knew she would turn the tide, but would be unwilling to tangle with the type of dark force that had mutilated her life. He had gambled that she would assist him when he needed it.
The circle and the circle maker were gone to where they belonged, and Tina and Cole, despite the difference in years had a friend that knew what they had faced.
Wayfarer turned, stepping into an unseen space, vanishing from the world until he was needed again.