Not Quite Time, Not Quite Space

Auden Tholos, the son of Audra Tholos, stared up from the floor of Rosette Gok’s kitchen. Auden’s eyes, bloodshot with tears, were initially wide with intrigue, but quickly scorched over into a churning mix of anger and something else equally passionate. Green droplets clung to the ringlets on his head and the outer layer of clothing proving to Emma Mota where he was before arriving here. Auden Tholos was not one for greetings and guess work. With accuracy he deduced the reason for his sudden appearance before an unknown woman and her. Auden shaped his gaze with that of Emma Mota. Pain, the same kind striding with Auden, existed in Emma and together their pain greeted as quiet signs, flushed cheeks, and a lowered guard soon to be hoisted higher than it ever was before.

“I said, I need a bow and arrow,” Auden spoke clearly as if addressing an army and came to his feet fast. The older woman, unperturbed by Auden’s jarring movements, claimed a sturdy brow.

“Follow me. The drawing room should have something.” Rosette passed Auden and to his surprise she willing turned her back on him. There were few people across time and space who would ever do such a thing. Auden looked back at Emma and then followed Rosette.

“Am I in the dream?” Auden hated asking questions, but it was important for him to know.

“You are.” Rosette confirmed, before passing the art room’s threshold. The art room, a circular shaped room with several archways leading to a sunroom and other living spaces, appeared perfectly cluttered. Oil paintings claimed every wall space and showcased another talent of Rosette’s; the ability to bring to life green pasture with black mountains, golden flowers with yellow hearts, ripe pears glowing with the sun, and a battle over a frozen body of water. A grand piano rested at the center of the art room with its lid shut and on top of it small, framed photos. There were three desks in the room with two of them stacked high with legal pads and composition books made full with black ink, while the final desk simply existed to carry the ageing flowers Rosette picked.

“This should do it.” Rosette said. Pulling out a step stool, Rosette ascended it and plucked from the wall above the fireplace a recurve bow with a single wooden arrow. From the main threshold, Emma watched as Rosette paused before Auden and looked up into his face. Auden, always so proud, held his head high, but did not rush the woman or reach for the weapon earlier than needed. The older woman seemed to be searching for something as her eyes touched on Auden’s ebony hair, his umber cheeks made rich with hints of red, his proud chin, and then his hands wounded and bleeding a bit.

“You’re a fighter.” It was not a question, but a declaration. “Maybe there is hope.” Rosette handed over the bow and uttered something about being a good shot. Auden appraised the heavy bow in his hands, its weight, and the assurance in its glow that it would work under pressure by bending to his will.

“The rain grows heavier.” Rosette faced the threshold leading to the sunroom and from her position witnessed Humbleville drench itself anew, even though its gardens and fields were already full. “Auden Tholos, I do not know what your will is, but I pray it be the kind willing to form us real. To breathe actual life into Humbleville and make such a town of such a place. We have little time. Soon Humbleville will unravel and we’ll all be gone.”

“My mother’s choices are not my problem.” Auden said, but his voice lacked grit. As he often did, he lashed out in his pain, hoping to hurt whoever he could.

“How could you say that?” Emma spat. Arms crossed, the young woman disregarded the invisible barrier between her and Auden and placed herself in front of him. Audra was not here, but Auden was, and so Emma spoke as if Audra could hear her. “Audra created us.” Emma clenched her jaw thinking of her life and the pain that was all a dream in Audra’s head. “Our experiences, to us, are real and she created them. She allowed pain and anguish and through it we are real and now what? She gets to die after living a full life and leave us to some nightmare?” Emma chewed the words and then tossed them from her mouth, hoping like gum they would stick to something. That they would ruin something. Auden said nothing, as it was not in him to raise his voice to Emma.

If Emma did not know Auden, then she would have taken him walking away from her as a sign of disinterest in the conversation. The young man strode across the room, taking in the many trinkets and photos, the paintings, flowers, and books. Picking a bud from one flower, Auden slipped it into the palm of his hand and held it out beneath a banker’s lamp to see in the light. “It’s true you don’t have much time, but always in a dream time moves as river over rock. Slipping until the drought takes it all away leaving the rock to its prior ways. The rock is Count Gree, and the water is…was my mother. She put some kind of hold on Count Gree because of his violence and consuming ways and he’ll return to it all when this place goes.” Auden spoke against the light as his full lips became a small shadow on the green pasture painting.

“Humbleville is a kind of sedative, but Count Gree woke up.” Auden closed his fist over the flower bud and looked to Rosette, who just watched the rain fall.

“We need a blessing, a place to fight, and then for Count Gree to show up.” Auden said.

“What do you mean, we need a blessing?” Emma asked.

“I might be young, but my mother is ancient, Emma. She’s older than some galaxies.” Auden watched the news flow over Emma and for once her anger dwindled on the edge between approaching hope and receding back into rage. “She has many enemies, but she has friends, too. Friends who would help her in her time of need. I’ll go to them, but first I’ve been summoned to her funeral.” Auden chased his roiling grief with a bout of interest at the thought of the funeral and what might be there.

“Okay, good. I’m going.” Emma said. “Wherever and to the end.” She added. Rosette turned her back to the sunroom at Emma’s words and almost offered a weapon to the young woman, but watching the couple from across the room, she realized they had all they needed. Sighing, Rosette reached for a coat on the back of a desk chair. “You both go to the funeral and to wherever else you need. I’m going to amass an army. No ill-doing count will be what stands between me and life.”

“What good will amassing an army do?” Auden asked. “You’d have to reveal the truth of this place to everyone and then if they believe you, hope they’d be willing to fight.” Auden spoke quickly as he grounded his feet against the earth, preparing to resubmit himself and Emma to travel across the galaxy.

“You worry about your end and I’ll worry about mine. I’ve all the recipes I need to spread the truth.” Rosette smiled, touched Auden’s cheek for good luck, and hugged Emma before leaving.

“It’s true. I wouldn’t have believed a single thing without her chocolate cake.” Emma added before she fell into the familiar spin in her stomach that came with traveling across space and time.

In a place so far removed from Earth and entirely encompassed by a prism of time and suspension, a planet overborne in grey rock and pressing mists showed itself to Emma and Auden. Nothingness seemed to be the planet’s claim, but as Emma and Auden walked, the mist cleared and so before them appeared a large procession all standing and further back over the dampened slate was a hovering house some four stories tall.

“Audra’s home.” Emma recalled. She had visited the house before, but never went outside as Audra told her there was nothing to see.

“Here, take this.” Auden handed Emma the flower bud from Rosette’s house.

“What’s this for?” Emma asked.

“You need an object from your world to bring you back if we get separated.” Auden said.

“I know that, but Audra just had me use my clothes for that.”

Auden shrugged, “Maybe I just wanted to give you a flower.” Emma shook her head before placing the flower bud in her pocket and following Auden.

It was a hard thing to make out the many backs of heads of funeral goers, but Emma recognized some of them either from stories Audra told her, photos, or from meeting them in person. General Rush, who destroyed the Suns of Blaze and saved billions, Queen Goldrun who claimed no kingdom but served regardless, Queen Lock of Altair who grew such fine green hair it bloomed flowers, and more.

“The funeral is almost over, and I’m not one for socializing. I saw we hang out in the house until the crowd disperses.” Auden said while circumventing the crowd and making his way to the back of the four-story home. At the back of the house, Auden stepped aside, allowing Emma to go first up the stairs that hovered three feet off the ground.

“What is this?” Emma asked. Right at the back door rested a suspicious package.

“Your mother doesn’t get mail here. She uses a G.P.O box.” Emma said, picking up the perfectly square, brown paper wrapped box. Hesitation flooded the youths as not even Auden, who had seen a fair bit of warfare, believed the package to be safe. Both Emma and Auden looked around for someone, but in the land of nothingness, finding someone responsible for a suspicious act was useless. Searching for a place where the brown paper was taped or glue, Emma found nothing and so placed the package on the ground and used the arrow given to her by Auden to pierce the paper. The paper tore like the flesh of a pear, all quiet and giving. Beneath the paper was a box with a lid and removing that lid, Emma stared down into the box as one might into an abyss. Emma heard Auden’s hard inhale, but did not look up from what she saw methodically tapping within the box.