Ban-Mek sprawled out below Logan like a
miniature board game. It was sprawling, interesting, and totally packed. Roads
and highways from all directions met in Mekka Valley, one of the biggest
traffic areas in the world. It wasn’t too large, but from Ban-Mek you could get
almost anywhere. The airport was one hour north. Though it was named “The Heart
of the Mountains”, it could also have adopted “The Heart of the Land”. The city
was situated in bowl between two gigantic mountains. It was green, lush, and
verdant, and the sky here was clear, but near the peaks of the mountains it
could change – cloudy, transparent, or snowing – in the bat of an eyelash.
Logan leant against the railing of the
mountain road, looking down the cliff right in front of him, a sheer face. He
swallowed his vertigo to enjoy the view after days of non-stop driving. At
least there’d been no interruptions; Ms. Helga had made sure of that. But that
didn’t stop Logan’s constant worrying. He closed his eyes, for a second
enjoying the feeling of knowing that a metre or so ahead of him, there was only
sky.
The bruise on his cheek was healing. The
cut was just a thick scab that Logan tried not to pick at, and all his bruises
had turned from a dark purple to a sickly shade of yellow.
Soon enough, Casper was calling him back
to the car, and they were once again speeding down twisting narrow roads. The
car hugged the cliff face, but sometimes when they turned a corner the edge
seemed to jump up and swallow them. Finally, Casper managed to get them down
into Mekka Valley, joining into the traffic, and making towards Ban-Mek.
The town was busy, and a tad shady, but
pleasant to the eye. The shops and vehicles and people made Logan whip his head
around for a better look, from such a variety of cultures that it was
breathtaking. It was loud and smelly and noisy, and the supervision from a
safety point of view seemed minimal, almost non-existent. Ji-Ji pulled out a
map and instructed them to leave the city, and head to “Snitch’s Camp Ground.”
They took a couple more exits, and soon
travelled through pristine neighbourhoods and suburbs and then came to country.
The campground was not far from the city, but was run-down and dusty; filled
with trailers and trucks and shabby tents. By the time they arrived, Logan was
getting antsy. He jumped out of the car and stretched, oblivious to the odd
looks the motorcycle man and tough women who peppered the camp, were giving
him.
They tumbled out of the car
lethargically; Ji-Ji and Casper stretched while Flo P hopped on the spot and
Saraha looked around camp blankly. Logan found a spot near the forest, and they
parked the car, and pitched a tent. Logan volunteered to sleep in the tent that
night, and Flo P offered to as well. That left Ji-Ji, Casper, and Saraha the
warm car seats.
“I’ll be seeing this car for another
long trip in the future,” Casper grumbled to himself, but when Flo P asked him
what he meant, he shook his head. “Forget it,” he said.
Logan went off to collect firewood, or
something of use, from the forest. Most of the time he wandered about, looking
at the differences in the trees, undergrowth, and birdcalls as opposed to the
Thorn Valley wood. He was feeling serene and deeply at peace.
That is, until a crashing called him
back to his senses. He snuck up to investigate, and found Saraha blundering
around, collecting kindling in her arms; the larger sticks and logs were stacked
on the sides. He stepped out from behind a tree and said “Need any help with
that?” so abruptly that she dropped all the twigs.
“W – what? Oh, Logan… Sure…” Saraha
picked them up again, and set about finding more.
After a long period of silence Logan
turned to her. “So, how’s life?” he said feebly. Not the best way to make
conversation, he reflected, but he’d never really “made conversation” with
Saraha. Usually she teased and jested at him, and if he was conversing with her, Flo P or Ji-Ji was there.
She turned to him as if to retort
snappily, but she just looked away and muttered, “Smashing. And you?”
Logan gulped. “Well, it’s… it’s…” He
struggled to find a word.
“I’ve always known you couldn’t lie.
Just say it.”
“It’s pretty bad,” admitted Logan.
“Nothing’s ‘smashing’ with me, as you claim it is. Everything’s in a total
pickle.” He dropped his head and continued collecting, embarrassed about
voicing his thoughts.
“What do you mean by that?” Saraha
questioned.
Logan took a couple minutes to respond –
in a way that he hoped was normal. He didn’t want to come across as melancholy,
and he certainly didn’t want anyone to pity him, least of all Saraha. “I won’t
be doing justice to my thoughts, but at least I’m saying them.” Logan sighed.
“Don’t you feel that existence right now is pretty mournful? What I mean is:
everything’s bad, and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t change it,
certainly, and I can’t go back to the way it was before, and I can’t escape it.
I wish none of this ever happened to any of us and I wish that I knew what was
happening, but I don’t – I only know that I’m being a coward and running away
from everything. It’s like everything is slipping through my fingers.”
Saraha cocked an eyebrow at him, in the
way he knew so well. He could practically see her thinking “He has no valid
point.”
“Why don’t you read the Walrus Document,
then?”
Her words were so unexpected that they
took Logan aback. “What? Why?”
“You said you wanted to know what’s
going on. You think any of us have forgotten about it, even if we haven’t
mentioned it? Everything we’ve been ‘running from’ is in there. I didn’t like it when Casper suggested any more than you; he has
not idea what he’s talking about… But he’s right. As long as he’ll be here,”
she added.
“Not now,” Logan told her. “Soon, but
not now.”
FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT
INSTALLMENT NEXT WEDNESDAY IN: “FAREWELL”.
zOMG FAREWELL
ReplyDelete0.o
FAREWELL HMMM I WONDER WHAT'LL HAPPEN
ReplyDeletei wonder
i wonder who'll leave }:)
~swiggity swag your story's rad
Swaggity swag everyone's interested for 'Farewell'
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