Heaven on Earth - A Short Story
It was with a fearful heart that I left the town. In truth, things weren't as horrible as I'm sure to relate, however, I've found that many things we believe to be true are, in fact, facsimiles of our conditioned experience. A mere copy of that which is taught in our education that we must regurgitate upon our examinations.
Perhaps facsimile is too strong of a word (or perhaps it is the wrong word altogether,) however, at this point it is the best I can do considering everything I have seen. In all honesty, I can say that my notion of reality is now askew in spite of myself. Allow me to relate the event as best I can. Then, when I am finished, you may, at your leisure, criticize my words to the point of complete nonsense.
I entered the town early in the morning preceeding the Day of Hallows. The sun had only just risen above the tree-line, and thus few citizens were roused for the day's labor. To say I was passing through would be only a half-truth. In reality, I was unsure exactly where I was going, and simply wished to allow the road to take me where it would. Upon my arrival I approached the first restaurant I saw (I later discovered it was the only restaurant in town) and found it ready for breaking fast. Being famished during my traveling, I welcomed the opportunity to fill my stomach and quench my thirst.
The establishment was rather rustic, in my personal opinion, however, as I am apt to swoon over that which is arcadian, this suited me perfectly. I was surprised to find I was the only patron thus far, although I suppose the place could have opened for business just before I arrived, but was tended to swiftly and with much enthusiasm. The service of the restaurant was so hospitable, that one would have thought I was a king gracing a lowly commoner's eatery. Needless to say I was more than pleased with my host.
During one of the many times that my host, who called himself Jeffery, inquired upon my satisfaction, I asked about the town itself. Curiously, he could not answer many of even the simplest questions, specifically regarding points of interest. Oh, of the street on which the restaurant stood, he was a wealth of information. Names of the other businesses, those of the residents, even the gossip regarding a girl supposedly free-spirited not only in mind, but also in body. However, of the rest of the town, the man remained ignorant, as if he had never known anything beyond the corner.
Thanking him as I paid for the meal, a delicious plate of ham steak, eggs, and fried wedges of potato, I bid my host fare well and left to explore the town on my own. As I left the establishment, I did note a look of sadness on the man's face, as if our brief conversation had meant the world to him, and the ending of such a crushing blow to his person. Still, the day was young, and I was sure there would be more conversations to be had.
Upon leaving I turned toward the corner. The street was devoid of persons walking, which confused me, for I was sure I had been in the restaurant long enough to warrant the passing of time. Had I brought my watch on my travels, I would be able to satisfy you with the time of my departure, however, I can only guess that it was ten of the clock or so.
Uninterested in the shops that Jeffery had mentioned, I paid them no mind as I made my way to the corner and crossed the street. It was upon stepping upon the opposite corner that I was overcome with fear. As my feet touched the pavement the morning sun disappeared and was replaced by the moon waning gibbous. In my disbelief, I stepped off the curb and returned to the previous corner, however the sun did not return.
Returning to the restaurant, I discovered it was closed for the night, as if the whole day had passed in a matter of seconds. Nethertheless, I racked my knuckles upon the door in spite of the "closed" sign in the window, however the response came not from the my previous host, but the apartment next door.
The voice of my respondent was soft, as if afraid of making noise during what I perceived an artificial night, and decidedly feminine.
"Shhhhh," it whispered, "Come to my door."
Following the voice to the said door (I did not see any light in the building) I was met with it open and the voice beckoning me to enter.
I must note that I could not see beyond the threshold until I entered and the door closed behind me. It was there that I saw the young woman holding the candle. She could not have been older than seventeen, however her hair was completely white and she was dressed in a night gown of the same color. Her skin was pale, and her lips the deep violet-blue of those who drown in icy waters, however there was a comfortable warmth that radiated from her person.
"What are you doing here?" She asked me, and I was immediately confounded by the question. After all it was she who requested I come, and I responded as such.
"No," she explained, "why have you come to this town?"
Still confused at her inquiry, I answered truthfully that I was simply traveling and stopped in town. She nodded as if understanding, however her tone turned grave, "You must leave the way you came immediately."
At this, I became irritated and demanded to know what was going on? Why had the day passed in a mere moment? Why must I leave?
The woman sighed impatiently, "You must leave before they catch you, or you will never do so."
My impatience matched her own. I grew tired of these cryptic riddles. Being a rational man, I knew there was a logical explanation to these events and again demanded answers to my questions.
"This town is cursed," she explained quickly in hushed tones, obviously indicating that I quiet myself as well. "There are things here that do not wish those who enter to leave, and will trap you here if they catch you."
"What kind of things?" I asked patronizingly, concluding that the woman was merely grasping at the strings of sanity, or perhaps grasping at what she thought was sane. However, at the conclusion of my words there was a rapping at the door which jostled the young woman.
Despite her plead not to open it, I threw the door open to see two men dressed in black suits and sunglasses. I was about to contemplate the need for sunglasses at night when I realized that time had again advanced. The fact that the men casted no shadow beyond them, led me to believe that it was high noon now. They were of the same stature and build, and both had short black hair on their equally pale faces.
"Is everything alright, Molly?" asked the man on the left. His voice was deep and with an accent I could not place. Molly looked visibly distraught.
"Yes," she responded, "I was just talking to our new visitor, he was just leaving."
"Leaving was he?" returned the man on the right as if the concept was lost on him.
At this point I took the opportunity to distance myself from the clearly troubled girl, and asked the two gentlemen if I may speak with them in private.
As we left the building and the door closed, they confirmed my suspicions.
"Don't mind Molly," said the one on the right. "She suffered an injury to her head a year or so ago." The man on the left nodded in agreement and continued his companion's explanation, "It has left her sadly confused and rather paranoid."
"Has she seen a doctor?" I asked with mild concern. The men paused a moment then the one on the right responded, "I'm afraid we have no doctor in this town." This was followed, again, by the man on the left, "Are you a doctor? We could use a doctor here."
I laughed, "Hardly, I'm afraid, although I believe I need one as well. Besides I'm merely passing through." Then it occurred to me that I did not know the name of the town and asked about it.
"We like to call it, Heaven on Earth," said the man on the right, to which the man on the left responded with laughter, "Yes, Heaven indeed," which resulted in the other man laughing as well.
Tiring quickly of this back and forth conversation with these men, as well as the queerness of this town, I concluded our conversation "Well, thank you for your hospitality, however I must be on my way."
At this both men ceased their joyful guffaw and responded in uncanny, and disquieting, unison, "You cannot leave, please stay. We have made arrangements for an apartment for you. We are sure you will like it."
At this I stepped back and immediately noted the change of day to night again. The men remained in the street however, bright red orbs seemed to illuminate behind their sunglasses as they repeated themselves, "You cannot leave, please stay. We are sure you will like it."
At this I lost my sanity and fled down the street toward the road where I first entered the town. Behind me I heard the pounding of footsteps of my pursuers chanting their creed, "Please stay. You will like it."
I sprinted as fast as I could, and as I passed the point where the sidewalk, and apparently the town itself, ceased, the footsteps behind me disappeared and I was left in silence. Still I did not stop running until I arrived at the edge of the forest and at the city limits of my home.
Copyright © 2005 Michael P. Cammarota
Perhaps facsimile is too strong of a word (or perhaps it is the wrong word altogether,) however, at this point it is the best I can do considering everything I have seen. In all honesty, I can say that my notion of reality is now askew in spite of myself. Allow me to relate the event as best I can. Then, when I am finished, you may, at your leisure, criticize my words to the point of complete nonsense.
I entered the town early in the morning preceeding the Day of Hallows. The sun had only just risen above the tree-line, and thus few citizens were roused for the day's labor. To say I was passing through would be only a half-truth. In reality, I was unsure exactly where I was going, and simply wished to allow the road to take me where it would. Upon my arrival I approached the first restaurant I saw (I later discovered it was the only restaurant in town) and found it ready for breaking fast. Being famished during my traveling, I welcomed the opportunity to fill my stomach and quench my thirst.
The establishment was rather rustic, in my personal opinion, however, as I am apt to swoon over that which is arcadian, this suited me perfectly. I was surprised to find I was the only patron thus far, although I suppose the place could have opened for business just before I arrived, but was tended to swiftly and with much enthusiasm. The service of the restaurant was so hospitable, that one would have thought I was a king gracing a lowly commoner's eatery. Needless to say I was more than pleased with my host.
During one of the many times that my host, who called himself Jeffery, inquired upon my satisfaction, I asked about the town itself. Curiously, he could not answer many of even the simplest questions, specifically regarding points of interest. Oh, of the street on which the restaurant stood, he was a wealth of information. Names of the other businesses, those of the residents, even the gossip regarding a girl supposedly free-spirited not only in mind, but also in body. However, of the rest of the town, the man remained ignorant, as if he had never known anything beyond the corner.
Thanking him as I paid for the meal, a delicious plate of ham steak, eggs, and fried wedges of potato, I bid my host fare well and left to explore the town on my own. As I left the establishment, I did note a look of sadness on the man's face, as if our brief conversation had meant the world to him, and the ending of such a crushing blow to his person. Still, the day was young, and I was sure there would be more conversations to be had.
Upon leaving I turned toward the corner. The street was devoid of persons walking, which confused me, for I was sure I had been in the restaurant long enough to warrant the passing of time. Had I brought my watch on my travels, I would be able to satisfy you with the time of my departure, however, I can only guess that it was ten of the clock or so.
Uninterested in the shops that Jeffery had mentioned, I paid them no mind as I made my way to the corner and crossed the street. It was upon stepping upon the opposite corner that I was overcome with fear. As my feet touched the pavement the morning sun disappeared and was replaced by the moon waning gibbous. In my disbelief, I stepped off the curb and returned to the previous corner, however the sun did not return.
Returning to the restaurant, I discovered it was closed for the night, as if the whole day had passed in a matter of seconds. Nethertheless, I racked my knuckles upon the door in spite of the "closed" sign in the window, however the response came not from the my previous host, but the apartment next door.
The voice of my respondent was soft, as if afraid of making noise during what I perceived an artificial night, and decidedly feminine.
"Shhhhh," it whispered, "Come to my door."
Following the voice to the said door (I did not see any light in the building) I was met with it open and the voice beckoning me to enter.
I must note that I could not see beyond the threshold until I entered and the door closed behind me. It was there that I saw the young woman holding the candle. She could not have been older than seventeen, however her hair was completely white and she was dressed in a night gown of the same color. Her skin was pale, and her lips the deep violet-blue of those who drown in icy waters, however there was a comfortable warmth that radiated from her person.
"What are you doing here?" She asked me, and I was immediately confounded by the question. After all it was she who requested I come, and I responded as such.
"No," she explained, "why have you come to this town?"
Still confused at her inquiry, I answered truthfully that I was simply traveling and stopped in town. She nodded as if understanding, however her tone turned grave, "You must leave the way you came immediately."
At this, I became irritated and demanded to know what was going on? Why had the day passed in a mere moment? Why must I leave?
The woman sighed impatiently, "You must leave before they catch you, or you will never do so."
My impatience matched her own. I grew tired of these cryptic riddles. Being a rational man, I knew there was a logical explanation to these events and again demanded answers to my questions.
"This town is cursed," she explained quickly in hushed tones, obviously indicating that I quiet myself as well. "There are things here that do not wish those who enter to leave, and will trap you here if they catch you."
"What kind of things?" I asked patronizingly, concluding that the woman was merely grasping at the strings of sanity, or perhaps grasping at what she thought was sane. However, at the conclusion of my words there was a rapping at the door which jostled the young woman.
Despite her plead not to open it, I threw the door open to see two men dressed in black suits and sunglasses. I was about to contemplate the need for sunglasses at night when I realized that time had again advanced. The fact that the men casted no shadow beyond them, led me to believe that it was high noon now. They were of the same stature and build, and both had short black hair on their equally pale faces.
"Is everything alright, Molly?" asked the man on the left. His voice was deep and with an accent I could not place. Molly looked visibly distraught.
"Yes," she responded, "I was just talking to our new visitor, he was just leaving."
"Leaving was he?" returned the man on the right as if the concept was lost on him.
At this point I took the opportunity to distance myself from the clearly troubled girl, and asked the two gentlemen if I may speak with them in private.
As we left the building and the door closed, they confirmed my suspicions.
"Don't mind Molly," said the one on the right. "She suffered an injury to her head a year or so ago." The man on the left nodded in agreement and continued his companion's explanation, "It has left her sadly confused and rather paranoid."
"Has she seen a doctor?" I asked with mild concern. The men paused a moment then the one on the right responded, "I'm afraid we have no doctor in this town." This was followed, again, by the man on the left, "Are you a doctor? We could use a doctor here."
I laughed, "Hardly, I'm afraid, although I believe I need one as well. Besides I'm merely passing through." Then it occurred to me that I did not know the name of the town and asked about it.
"We like to call it, Heaven on Earth," said the man on the right, to which the man on the left responded with laughter, "Yes, Heaven indeed," which resulted in the other man laughing as well.
Tiring quickly of this back and forth conversation with these men, as well as the queerness of this town, I concluded our conversation "Well, thank you for your hospitality, however I must be on my way."
At this both men ceased their joyful guffaw and responded in uncanny, and disquieting, unison, "You cannot leave, please stay. We have made arrangements for an apartment for you. We are sure you will like it."
At this I stepped back and immediately noted the change of day to night again. The men remained in the street however, bright red orbs seemed to illuminate behind their sunglasses as they repeated themselves, "You cannot leave, please stay. We are sure you will like it."
At this I lost my sanity and fled down the street toward the road where I first entered the town. Behind me I heard the pounding of footsteps of my pursuers chanting their creed, "Please stay. You will like it."
I sprinted as fast as I could, and as I passed the point where the sidewalk, and apparently the town itself, ceased, the footsteps behind me disappeared and I was left in silence. Still I did not stop running until I arrived at the edge of the forest and at the city limits of my home.
Copyright © 2005 Michael P. Cammarota