The phone continued to ring. Hundreds of convoluted thoughts flowed through
my mind like a raging river. Stunned, I tried to organize my thoughts.
Pick up the phone; it could be important.
Don’t! I stopped and let my arm fall to my side. It could
just be a prank call.
No, pick it up, it could be for me. Of course it’s probably a prank
or wrong number, but I can’t just assume.
On the other hand, if it is and I pick it up…
You'll feel like an idiot. So what? It's nothing new, said a
little voice in my mind. (Sometimes I talk to myself, but Amanda is into
psychology and she tells me this is perfectly normal.)
"Stop it!" The phone rang again, and some people nearby were
giving me funny looks and slowly scooting away. Of course, I barely noticed,
I was so focused on the ringing phone. I began muttering to myself, once
again enthralled in the same circuitous argument.
All right! I'll pick it up. Again I hesitated, but this time
I knew that if I lost my nerve now I'd never answer the phone and would
be forever haunted by this memory. Unanswered questions would wander through
my mind, slowly stealing my sanity. Still, the possibility of looking
stupid and being late for class because of a prank call made me stop.
I started speaking aloud. “Stop this nonsense!” If you’re just going
to sit here arguing like a losing attorney you might as well pick up the
stupid phone. I had made a point. I was wasting time debating with
myself about whether or not to pick up a simple phone.
Finally, after checking the time to see if I hadn’t wasted too much time arguing (as is typical with
intrapersonal conversations, this one had taken less than a minute), I timidly lifted the receiver
off the hook. After pausing a breath, I choked out a quiet: "Hello?"
The voice that answered nearly knocked me off my feet. "Neil! Thank God!" I couldn't immediately
identify the female voice, but it belonged to someone I knew. "I tried to call your cell phone, but I
couldn't get through and I remember-"
"Galadriel?"
I asked incredulously.
"They're coming for me, Neil. They're coming for me!" Galadriel shouted.
"Who?" I asked. "Where are you?" For the first time in my life I was truly worried about Galadriel.
Usually she took care of herself rather easily. Briefly, I wondered if she could be trying to play a
joke on me. However, I quickly discounted that notion; Galadriel may hate me, but the fear in her
voice was all too real.
"I don't know!" was Galadriel's hysterical reply. "They're coming closer, and I don't know where I am!
Neil, please help me!"
"Calm down! Think. Can you tell me what's going on?" I couldn't imagine what would make Galadriel,
usually so calm and controlled, act like this. The only strong emotion I had ever seen her exhibit
before was anger (usually directed at me), focused into a lethal, intense glare or unleashed in a
terrible fury.
"We were all together and then I just remember a terrible pain and then I was alone. Now they're coming
after me. Am I dead? Oh, Neil, I need help!" Galadriel had never sounded so scared. She was obviously
in a panic.
"But who's coming, Galadriel? Who?" I asked again.
"Monsters. Demons. I don't know, just them." Galadriel was growing
even more agitated. "Help me!" she cried out again.
"Don't panic. Talk to me. Tell me what you see." I could tell I was losing her, and it occurred to me
that she might in fact be hallucinating.
"It's dark. I can't see much. But I can hear them. They're getting closer!"
"Stop screaming! They can probably hear you too." Definitely hallucinating,
I thought. Her description of her surroundings hadn't helped me at all.
I racked my brain desperately for some bit of knowledge of how to deal
with a potentially unstable person. If only Amanda was here,
I thought ruefully, she'd be able to handle this. Unfortunately,
she was not nearby, and I had to make do with my own knowledge, scant
as it was. I've got to keep her focused on me. "Now take a deep
breath, and listen," I told Galadriel. "It's going to be all right."
"It's not all right!" Galadriel whispered. "I'm running now. They'll catch me soon. I need help!"
Well, I told myself, at least I got her to be quiet.
"If you can calmly explain to me where you are, I'll do what I can," I
told her.
"It's rocky. I'm in a canyon of some sort. I can see lightning overhead. There's a bright light on the
canyon wall above me and to my left. There could be another one at the top of the canyon in front of
me. There's a black river directly in front of me. It's flowing to my left and behind me." She was
speaking fast, and it sounded as if she might be hyperventilating. Still, she continued. "There's a
reddish crescent moon poking through the clouds to my right. And…" Galadriel faltered, then
continued incredulously, "there's a full moon to the left of it!"
I'd been listening intently up to this point, trying to figure out how Galadriel had gone nightside
(literally or figuratively) so quickly, but now I blurted out "What!?" I knew she was crazy for sure
now.
"I wouldn't believe it myself if not for everything we've been through in the past few days, but it's
true! I can see it with my own eyes." Galadriel seemed calmer at least, but this was too much.
"Have you gone nightside?" I asked (while making a mental note to find out if Amanda knew that physical
exercise could calm down a hysterical subject, if not put some sense into him/her).
"I'm perfectly sane Neil, and if I'm not, neither are you. Or any of us, for that matter."
I was about to ask Galadriel what in the churning cosmos she was talking about, but before I could she
let out a tremendous shriek.
"Ahhh!"
Next I heard a beastly roar and a terrible laugh, and then the phone went dead. "Galadriel?" I called
into the silent receiver. "Galadriel!" After a few seconds of terrible silence, a calm recorded voice
brought me back to the moment at hand.
"If you'd like to make a call, please hang up, then put a dollar or a pound into the slot below the
cradle. If you need to make a collect call, please hang up and redial. If you need to reach emergency
services, please-" Dazedly, I returned the receiver to its proper place. Somehow I doubted dialing
911 would do Galadriel any good.
I stood there by the pay phone for a long moment, completely forgetting the time. I wasn't even aware
that I was about to be late for Dr. Jones's History class (which I took with Galadriel and about
fifteen other students). I could only think about Galadriel, and I was quite frustrated. Was she
okay? Was she insane? Where was she? What happened? I had no answers, only questions, so I stood
mulling them over in my mind as seconds ticked away.
"Hey Neil, what're you doing?" said a slightly accented voice from somewhere behind me.
I turned to see two of my classmates walking towards me. In the lead was the one who had spoken, Aleks
Kirov. Behind him walked Pierre LeBeau. Both were Overseas Education students, Aleks from Siberia and
Pierre from France. Though I didn't exactly act friendly towards either of them, I did see them and
exchange a few words nearly every day.
"Hey Aleks, Pierre. How's life?" I asked.
"Miserable. As it always is in this dreadful country," replied Pierre with his thickly accented English.
People like Pierre are the reason Celeste hates Frenchmen of all types.
He refuses to learn proper English (and can't speak a word of any other
languages besides French either), constantly professes his hatred of Americans,
and acts better than everyone else. Like most Overseas Education students,
he has rich parents, and they spent the first ten years of his life frantically
transforming him into a spoiled brat before sending him to wreak havoc
on the school system of the Autonomous States of America. Pierre exudes
a general atmosphere of annoyance and keeps his nose so high in the air
that it's a wonder he can see where he's walking. However, his favorite
activity seems to be sponging off of (while simultaneously annoying) more
popular students, such as Aleks.
Aleks is in a class by himself. A Siberian Overseas Education student,
he doesn't lack arrogance, but his is rooted in knowledge of mental and
physical superiority rather than petty racism, and he has perfected his
technique of hiding it. Few can claim to equal Aleks in any way, but he
has always respected me as an intellect. Aleks leads the clique that consists
of the most popular students, but has never belittled anyone, not even
Pierre (who asks for it on a daily basis). If he wasn't quite so popular,
Aleks would be a candidate for membership on the Gray Council, though
he would certainly refuse. Aleks has other priorities.
"Neil, are you not worried about returning late for class?" Aleks, far from being concerned about my
well being, was simply making small talk.
I called up the time on my eyes (What's the use of cybernetic eyes if
you can't do something with them, like display useful information
directly over your field of vision?) and read it off to myself hastily.
I had almost five full minutes to get back to class. That’s funny,
I thought, if this is right, I couldn’t have spent more than ten seconds
on the phone. That left me with more than enough time, but Aleks
was always careful to return to class quite early (He has a perfect
record to keep up.). "I was just on my way," I said, still not entirely
myself.
Aleks seemed to know that wasn't entirely true. "I'm sure you were. If I hadn't come along you wouldn't
be staring off into space, no way." (Aleks has yet to master the fine American art of sarcasm.) Of
course Aleks's reaction (I would have gladly bet) would have mirrored mine, if he had just had a
similar experience.
"Thinking about your little girlfriend? We Frenchmen know all about love. I can give you help."
I've never figured out whom Pierre thinks I'm trying to entice into going out with me, but I can be
fairly certain that nothing short of a nuclear blast has the sheer eye-opening power to cure people
like him of their pet notions. "Oh, shut down," I told him, not really expecting him to obey (he'll
chatter on into infinity if given half the chance).
Fortunately, Aleks seemed as vacuumed-out with him as I was. Pierre must have spent the whole lunch
period orbiting him. "Come along or stay here and make yourself tardy," he told Pierre. Then he
continued on without a word or a glance backwards. Pierre, torn between taunting me and continuing a
good day's work on Aleks, followed after only a slight pause to sneer in my general direction.
Left alone with my thoughts, I slowly wandered towards the school. I wondered
if Galadriel would been in class. She'd sounded quite upset in her phone
call, and I was thoroughly puzzled. The more I thought about it, the less
sense it made. Galadriel could not have possibly been in a place like
the one she'd described; it didn't exist. If she'd gone nightside, someone
would have found her ranting and raving before she called me. How could
the phone call have possibly happened then? Logically, it was next to
impossible. Perhaps I'm losing my mind, I thought. I never
should have picked up that phone.
Looking up, I found myself at the edge of Main Street. Collecting my thoughts, I stepped onto the
overpass and was whisked across the busy road to CSSSM. From my present location, it was a rather short
walk to the History complex. I rounded the corner to reach the small school entrance used by students
returning from lunch. From there, I walked through the Office complex. Once through the building, I
turned right, towards the Science building, and walked past the entrance of the building to the edge
of the moving sidewalk. The sidewalk carried me to the History building and neatly deposited me a
few feet from the doors before I could blink. I stepped clear and walked into the building and down
the hall until I reached Dr. Jones's room. Pushing open the door, I stepped inside.
I stood next to the row of bookcases. In front of me, I could see that Dr. Jones had already displayed
today's lesson plan on the large liquid plasma flatscreen at the front of the room. The screen read:
1. Collect Homework
2. Retaliatory War Quiz
3. Reunification Notes
4. Begin Presentation of Biography Projects
The clock in the corner of the screen said 12:3756.
Interestingly, my own internal clock displayed the same time. I glanced
around the room before taking my seat. Sixteen desks were already filled.
Galadriel was sitting in her seat! I stopped in the doorway. Galadriel
didn't look like someone who'd just gone insane. She hadn't just spent
ten minutes being chased through a rocky canyon, that I could tell at
a glance. In fact, she was chatting amiably with one of her friends. Confused,
I stood in the doorway with my jaw hanging wide open. Recovering quickly
(sort of), I walked to my seat and dumped my stuff off. I was about to
sit down, but I thought better of it. Why not ask Galadriel what the
heck is going on?
Glaring, I walked over to her. "Why did you have to scare me like
that?"
She just stared at me. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
She sounded rather sincere. Even so, I was about to lay it all out for
her, but I never got the chance.
Br-r-ring! The piercingly loud tardy bell grabbed
my attention. I hurried to my seat, resolving to speak to Galadriel about
the phone call later. I was more baffled than ever. Enough strange stuff
had happened to me today to last a lifetime. As I slid into my seat and
called up my homework on the desk computer, Dr. Jones stood and walked
to the front of the classroom.
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