>>
|
383006.jpg
Scarlet Petal
383006
A gathering of stuffed animals stared blankly into space as Sammy asked Becca how she was doing and then explained the problems he'd been having at school with Emma and Katy. Becca listened without saying much, tiny and lost in the vast mountain of pastels. The scented candles in the room couldn't completely mask the pervasive smell of antiseptics.
Over the course of Sammy's narrative, he could see Becca focus on his face, her expression changing from bland indifference to focused interest. When he stopped, she was smiling, gesturing with her frail, almost skeletal paws as she passed down some advice from her time as a girl in High School.
"Well, Sam, looks like you aren't going to have too easy a time about all this. I don't think Emma 's going to help you out in any kind of meaningful way, and I bet Katy's getting it worse than you were now. For somebody like Mika, it's probably not so bad. She's probably never gotten any attention at all from anybody and she's probably getting mostly sort of positive attention, really. I'm sure there are plenty of girls at school who want to sleep with you."
Sammy blushed, and was thankful for his concealing fur.
"Anyway, Even if Emma said something, it wouldn't matter. The truth isn't nearly as interesting as the story that Emma told, and people will keep passing on the more exciting lie. Sorry, it's just how people work. Most people won't be doing it out of malice or anything, it's just that it's a jucy tidbit or whatever, so they'll keep talking about it. Even if Emma did say something, it'll just keep the conversations going because people will talk about who is lying and who is telling the truth and all. Sorry I can't help you Sam. It just kind of sucks. Just try not to let it get to you I guess."
She sank back down into the bed, her smile fading, "Thanks for coming to talk with me Sam."
"Thanks for listening, Becca," he said, "I'd better get to bed."
"Well, I'm here if you need me," she said.
He walked back into the dark hallway, slowly closing the door behind him. As he made his way through the den, he didn't see Dad's massive shadow anymore, and the radio was off. They must be in bed already.
He quickly showered and slipped into his room with several dry towels. He didn't know if he'd be able to sleep on the floor, but his bed would probably be OK if he put the towels on top. He remembered to write his last dream down in the journal in his desk drawer, and put another pen and some more paper in his pocket. He had his mag light, a pen and some paper, and the pawn. Laying on top of the sheets and towels, wearing shorts and sandals again, he tossed and turned for some time before finally drifting off to sleep.
****
Sammy stood on one side of a massive, open plaza. Golden towers and less-identifiable structures spun into fantastic shapes all around him. A blank, white emptiness loomed over the panorama instead of a sky. Tall, impossibly thin towers linked with bridges and catwalks that swept in thin, graceful curves, short, round gleaming domes and spires, other shapes he found it difficult to understand. All gleamed, like gold or glass. Opposite him, across the plaza, a massive structure dominated the landscape. It was made of multiple concentric walls, some with unfinished, domelike roofs all nested inside of each other and rotated at odd angles. It seemed like there was some sort of structure in the center, but he couldn't clearly make it out. Whatever it was, it seemed to be waiting expectantly for someone to enter.
The area was utterly silent. No wind blew through the streets and the air was slightly cool. All Sammy could hear was his own breathing, and all he could smell was his own nervous perspiration. The infinite white void overhead seemed to produce some soft light that illuminated everything with a diffuse shadowless glow.
He could barely make out some kind of figure across the plaza, near the giant structure. It looked like roughly two thirds of a large statue made out of some dull gray metal, some sort of relatively simplistic armored figure. He guessed that before its destruction it had originally been maybe three times his height. Whatever had destroyed it had been cataclysmic - large chunks of the metal statue littered the area around it, and there were black scorch marks on what he figured was the impact zone.
|