How were my eyes so blinded
So this might need explaining.
I HAVE been writing for NaNoWriMo. Just... um, not much. At all. I'm up to 10,044. That's nice. That's where I wanted to be about two weeks ago. So... yeah. But I haven't put this up online in a while, so here you guys go. All none of you. Well, Hiedi. So, one person.
Be warned: Chapter 2 has nothing to do with Chapter 1. Or the prologue. At all. I warned you.
“And her name is Pesto because...”
“Oh, right. Well, the birthing itself was so short that, um...” Autumn began giggling uncontrollably. “When she was born, her dad waved his arms out in front of his wife’s legs and yelled, ‘Presto!’”
Ollie stared at Autumn in a look of comic shock, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
“No way,” he said.
“Way,” confirmed Autumn. “And when they asked for the baby’s name, her dad tried to call her Presto. His wife didn’t like that, though, so they had to compromise.”
“And their compromise was ‘Pesto?’”
“Like I said, man,” Autumn shrugged, “they’re all crazy.” The two of them sat in silence as they struggled to find words.
“I don’t think I can top that,” Ollie said with a smile. “Like, I’m sitting here thinking about weird names I know, but none of them are nearly as good.”
“Oh yeah? What are the bad ones?”
“Well... you know Paige, right?”
“Paige?” she asked, curious. “That’s not very weird.”
“It is if you know why they named her Paige.”
“Why?”
“Well,” he started. “You know that Simon and Garfunkel song, ‘Scarborough Fair?’ ‘Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme?’”
“Yeah...?”
“Parsley and sage,” he said, expectantly. “Paige.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Autumn said, not laughing. They sat in silence once again. Ollie looked at Autumn. She was looking out the window, distracted by the bright lights of the strip malls. Ollie sighed quietly. He wondered if he’d ever have anything interesting to say.
* * *
Ollie kicked the ground beneath his chair. He had an itch on his right ankle. He bent over to scratch it, but he found his right arm immobile. He sighed and twisted his body to bring his left arm over instead. Autumn giggled.
“How’s the cast?” she asked, trying to contain her laughter. Ollie mimicked her laughter teasingly.
“It’s um... it’s a cast alright.”
“Do I get to sign it?” she asked sweetly. “I’ve always wanted to be the first to sign someone’s cast.”
“Sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “Do you have a marker?”
“Well, no,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I’ll sign it when we get home.”
“Okay.” He swung his arm out to his side and back several times, getting used to the feel of it. He stopped swinging and stared at his forearm.
“What’s wrong?” Autumn asked.
“Nothing, just...” Ollie grabbed the cast at his forearm, shook it, and let it go. He sighed. “I have an itch on my arm.”
“Well maybe if you hadn’t tripped down the stairs,” Autumn taunted, “you’d be able to scratch it.”
“Yeah, that’s really nice of you.” He began hitting the cast lightly, in hopes of incidentally scratching the itch. It didn’t work. He kept doing it, until he hit the cast hard enough to bring back the pain that immobilized it in the first place. He jumped backwards in his chair.
“Here,” Autumn suggested, “close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Close your eyes.” Ollie complied. Knowing Autumn, he thought, there’s a good chance she’ll just poke me while I’m distracted. “Okay,” she continued. “Now, you need to center yourself.”
“What?” he asked skeptically, keeping his eyes closed as his face contorted.
“Find your center. Find your self.” As she spoke, her own body relaxed. She hoped that would come through in the way she spoke. “Breathe in the good energy, breathe out the bad.” He breathed deeper, pushing his breaths out with a sigh.
“This is really relaxing,” he said as though no one were listening. Autumn smiled.
“Now open your eyes.” He again complied. His eyes blinked open a few times, adjusting once again to the light of the doctor’s office. She opened her eyes slowly. “How do you feel?” she asked sweetly.
“Surprisingly relaxed,” he said with a contented sigh. “Where did you learn that?”
“My family,” she said. He nodded. With a family like hers, no further explanation was necessary. She nodded her head towards his cast. “How’s the arm?”
“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” he said nonchalantly.
“Does it itch?” she asked. Ollie looked down at his arm, then looked up and smiled.
“No,” he replied. “No, it doesn’t itch anymore.”
“Good,” she smiled. The two shared a loving glance. This was soon interrupted by the office door swinging open. In walked a man in medical garb, who looked at Ollie and smiled.
“How’s the cast?” the doctor asked. He walked to the desk, sat in the rolling chair, and rolled over in front of Ollie.
“Not bad,” he replied. “I’m glad I’m left-handed.” The doctor chuckled.
“Yeah, it could have been a lot worse.” The three of them shared an awkward pause. The doctor turned his attention to Autumn. “You’re driving him home, right?”
“Indeed, I am,” she replied. “I wouldn’t make him drive home like this.” The doctor discussed the finer points of caring for his arm for the next few weeks, and the two were led out to the receptionist. No payments were made, but insurance was exchanged. They both knew even with insurance, paying this off would be a royal pain in the ass.
“Would you like to get some food after this?” Autumn asked. Ollie gave her a look that seemed to ask, “why would you ask about that right now?” She looked embarrassed and glanced away. “Just asking...” she tried to explain.
“Yeah,” he replied, “we can go out. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I just thought you’d like a nice meal after... you know, after this whole experience.”
“T’would be nice, m’love.”
“T’would?” she asked, amused at his choice of words.
“T’would.” He smiled at her. They finished up at the office and made their way out to the car. Autumn walked to the driver’s side door, and Ollie went to the passenger door. He grabbed the handle with his left hand and tried to swing the door open with his right. It didn’t work quite like he expected in his head. He bent over, trying to push the door open with the back of his arm, avoiding the broken bone. Autumn watched him with a straight face. She jogged to the other side of the car as he sat down. She closed the door for him. He looked up at her sweetly. She walked back to her side of the car and got in.
“So,” she said, smirking slightly, “how’s it feel, needing someone to, you know, constantly take care of you?”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, half smiling and half serious. “I could have gotten the door myself. I got in just fine.”
“Yeah, I saw that little dance you did.” Her smile broke through her quiet smirk. “You were all like, ‘Oh, look at me, I can’t do such simple tasks as opening a door. How on Earth shall I ever survive?’”
“That was me?”
“Yeah, that was you. Totally.”
“Good to know,” he said with a nod of acceptance. She put her seat belt on. He wagged his head as he retorted, “Bitch.” She scoffed and faked offense.
“I guess you don’t want dinner now.”
“Fine then,” he called her bluff. She turned the car on and hesitated.
“Is Kaufman’s okay?” she asked.
“That sounds lovely,” he said with a cheesy smile. “I love you, baby.”
“Sigh. I love you too.” Ollie loved the way she had to say the word “sigh” instead of simply sighing. He put his seat belt on, and they drove off.
* * *
Ollie sat down in the booth at Kaufman’s. It was a small, dingy restaurant on the outskirts of town. Only three other people were dining there this afternoon. Autumn looked at Ollie on one side of the booth, looked at the other, empty side, and looked back at him. She sat down next to him and scooted in close.
“Do you have an issue?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Just you.” He put his arm around her. The hostess walked away, telling them their waiter would be on his way shortly. Ollie thanked her. He pulled Autumn in closer with his good arm.
“So glad this arm still works,” he said. She laughed.
“Yeah, you didn’t fling this one into the flippin’ wall.”
“Oh, ha ha,” he said sarcastically. “Thanks for that.”
“What?” she said innocently. “I still don’t understand what possessed you to throw your arm out like that.”
“I told you,” he explained. “I thought there was one more step, and I lost my balance.”
“So you chucked your arm into the wall.”
“It was instinct! Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”
“Psh. No,” she replied. Apparently, her answer wasn’t quite good enough for Ollie. He pushed her lightly towards the edge of the booth, knowing she would lose her balance quite easily. She shouted, and her arm shot out to the edge of the cushion to keep her from falling off. Ollie shook his head smugly.
“See?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, half angrily, “but I was trying to catch myself. You didn’t even come close to catching yourself. You just flung your arm out in any direction it would go.”
“I was panicking!”
“You were stupid, okay?” she said, followed by a burst of laughter. He licked his lips and made a popping noise. She recognized that face. “I’m just joking around, I would have done the exact same thing.”
“Good,” he said.
“Besides, if it had been me, I probably would have cracked my skull open or something. You know my luck.” He chuckled to himself and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, lost in thought. “This is only the third time in two days I’ve almost died, so...” he trailed off without finishing his thought. Autumn’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “What happened? You almost died? You never told me you almost died!” Ollie attempted to speak, but Autumn’s worried ramblings kept cutting in. “What happened? Did someone try to shank you?”
“What? No, nothing like that.” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. This didn’t help Autumn’s nerves, and she couldn’t help but ask more questions.
“When did it happen? Was it your fault?”
“Quit it,” he said, concentrating. “I’m trying to figure out how to explain it.”
“Fine,” she said, sitting straight up. She made a zipper motion across her lips and nodded towards him.
“So,” he began, “last night, on the way out to the mall to bring you your key...” He paused again. She bounced in her seat, keeping her lips tucked inside her mouth. “There were a couple altercations.”
“Mmm!” she squealed, looking concerned. He chuckled.
“I’m okay, aren’t I? Nothing too bad happened.” She calmed down a little, but only enough to stop making concerned noises. “So... I was on this little back road, and this truck got in front of me.” She stared. “He was going ass slow. I needed to pass him, and I had the dotted yellow line. So I checked the other lane and started going around him.”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled in concern.
“Well, as soon as I started passing him, the asshole sped up.” Autumn squealed. “And it would have been fine, but another car was coming the other way, so... well, I swerved out of the way before anything happened.” Her eyes widened. She sat motionless. “I- I said nothing happened.”
“I know,” she said, barely moving. “That’s just scary. I would have freaked out. I mean... I’m glad you’re okay, love.”
“Me too,” he added. “So that was that. Um... the other incident, though,” he continued. “I was um... I thought I could make the green light.”
“MMM!” Autumn squealed again.
“Are you going to do that through my whole story?” he asked. She hardly responded, still considering the way his story began. She motioned him to continue. “Okay,” he said. “I was trying to turn left at this intersection, and I thought I had enough time on the green light. But this guy came out from the other way and shot into the intersection on the yellow light.” Autumn’s eyes widened once again. “So I had to hit my brakes. Well, the guy behind me stopped in time... but the guy behind him didn’t stop as quickly.” He checked her reaction. She seemed frozen in shock. “So, that guy tapped the other guy, and they both got really pissed at me. Meanwhile, I’m stuck out in the intersection. It took, like, fifteen minutes to get everything sorted out.”
“Are you in trouble?” she asked innocently. “Do you have to pay someone?”
“No,” he said. “There was barely any damage. Like I said, the cars only tapped. There was a little dent in the one guy’s car, and he seemed to like the sound of his own voice, so we were stuck there forever,” Ollie explained, brushing the incident off. It wasn’t until he looked back at Autumn once again that he realized how scary his story must have sounded. “Baby,” he said, leaning in and reaching his arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“You almost died,” she said, still petrified. “Twice.” Ollie shook his head at her.
“I was being hyperbolic,” he explained sweetly. “I didn’t almost die. Everything worked out fine, and I got to you, so... whatever, right?” She didn’t seem satisfied with this. He tried again. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” She leaned into him and rested on his shoulder. He hugged her tightly.
“If it weren’t for me, none of that would have happened,” she worried. Ollie’s jaw dropped a little as he realized her concern. He immediately tried to comfort her and explain himself better.
“Baby,” he tried. “I was safe enough to make it there fine. I would have felt terrible leaving you out there for any longer than you already were.” She shook her head in his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have been stuck out there in the first place,” she reasoned. “If I had been smart enough to remember my keys, none of that would have happened.”
“Well, come on,” he responded, “everyone makes mistakes, love. And it wasn’t your fault for the way I drove. You might as well blame yourself for being born in the first place.”
“I shouldn’t have been born!” she said impressionably, hiding more and more from Ollie’s eyes. He just sighed.
“Honey, that’s not what I meant.”
“Yes it is. You said I should never have been born.”
“I never said that, actually.”
“Well that’s what I heard.” She tried not to look up at him. He thought he felt her moving a little, so he pulled her in closer. He realized quickly that she was bouncing slightly in his arms.
“Are... are you crying, honey?”
“Maybe.” She sniffed. “What does it matter?”
“Baby...” he started, reaching his right hand, cast and all, to lift up her chin. She chuckled through her slight tears.
“That cast cracks me up,” she said, attempting to cover up her emotions. She paused. “Unless that’s my fault too.”
“No,” he quickly responded. “The cast was all me. Just like everything else last night.” She didn’t seem persuaded.
“I just... lately, I don’t think I can do anything right,” she said, trying to unburden herself. “I was even thinking that at the doctor’s office, like... I didn’t know whether I was helping or not. I feel like I was covering a lot up to make you feel better.”
“What did you have to cover up?” he asked. She shook her head.
“I don’t know, I just felt like I needed to.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Like I was being really fake.”
“Trust me, you weren’t being fake.”
“You think?” She sniffled.
“Yeah.” He kissed her on the cheek, which made her smile. “You were just being you, and you were helping me out. It was sweet of you to drive me around.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to control her tears.
“Do you understand what I mean about all this?” he asked hopefully.
“Kinda?”
“There’s no reason for you to feel so bad, love,” he explained. “I know things are stressful right now, but... that doesn’t mean you have to worry about things between us. I wouldn’t have come to get you at the mall if I didn’t love you, but I do, so I did. And I accept the fact that you’re clumsy,” he said, laughing slightly. “It just makes us a clumsy couple.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to regain her joking tone. “At least I don’t fling my arm into random walls.”
“You’re just not gonna drop that, are you?”
“Do you really want me to?”
“No,” Ollie smiled. “I guess not.” Autumn leaned once again into Ollie’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.
“Where’s our waiter?” Autumn asked suddenly. “I’m getting really hungry.”
“He’s probably laughing at us somewhere,” he joked. “Maybe he quit in the middle of his shift.”
“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes. Ollie nudged her slightly.
“You okay?”
“I’m just trying to snap out of it,” she explained. Ollie thought for a second.
“So there’s these three monks,” he started. “In a monastery.”
“Yeah?”
“They’ve taken a vow of silence, but every year, one of them is allowed to speak a single sentence.” He paused. “Have you heard this joke before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” He continued. “So the first year comes around, and the first monk gets to talk. So he opens his mouth and says, ‘I love oatmeal.’” He nudged Autumn again. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, slightly annoyed. “Keep going.”
“So another year goes by. None of them say a word to each other while they do their monk... stuff.”
“Monk stuff?”
“Sure,” he said, brushing off his horrible ad-lib. “So it hits the second year, and the second monk gets to speak. He says, ‘I hate oatmeal.’ So now it hits the third year, and the third monk gets to say his sentence. He goes, ‘I’m sick and tired of this constant bickering over oatmeal!’” Ollie paused for her laughter. She chuckled a little.
“Funny,” she said, clicking her tongue. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“Did you like it?” he asked, nudging her again. She seemed unresponsive.
“I mean, it was alright.” She nuzzled his shoulder. “You’ve told better jokes before.”
“Oh,” he said with a smile. “I know what you mean. I think you liked that other joke better.”
“Hm?”
“Okay, so... a priest, a rabbi, and a minister are on a boat,” he began. Autumn cracked a smile.
“I like this joke,” she said, rubbing her head on his shoulder. Ollie held her tighter and opened his mouth to speak. Instead, another voice floated across the table. The waiter had finally shown up.
“Hey, welcome to Kaufman’s! How are you folks doing tonight?” Ollie had no time to answer. “My name’s Brett, and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you off with an appetizer tonight? Our specials for the evening are the potato leek soup, clam chowder, and beef stew, and we’ve got a special new drink, the Frosty Cold ICE-inerator, which comes with choice of-”
“Shh,” Ollie interrupted, sticking his index finger into the air. Brett paused. The three exchanged mostly confused glances. Ollie still held his finger in the air. He used it to point at Brett and emphasize his words. “Three men are in a boat,” he said, as if it were a matter of grave importance. Brett cocked his head to the side.
“Okay,” he said. Ollie looked at Autumn and continued his story.
“A priest, a minister, and a rabbi,” he explained. “They’re all in this boat.” He turned to Brett. “Have you heard this one before?”
“I- I don’t think so, sir.”
“Okay. So, a priest, a minister, and a rabbi, all in a boat.” He paused for dramatic effect. “The minister looks at the rabbi and tells him-”
“I thought it was the priest first,” Autumn interrupted.
“It’s a joke,” he explained. “Jokes change with time.”
“I’m just saying, it was the priest first the first time.”
“Noted,” he said, brushing her off. “But it’s the minister this time. And he looks at the rabbi and tells him he’s getting hungry. So the minister stands up, walks off the side of the boat, steps onto the water, and walks back to shore. He walks over to the snack bar-”
“There’s a snack bar now?” Autumn interrupted.
“Yeah, there was a snack bar before, too,” he said, slightly irritated. “May I?”
“By all means.”
“Good. So he goes to the snack bar and gets a Snickers bar, then walks across the water again and gets back on the boat. The priest is all like, ‘What the hell just happened here.’ So the rabbi says he’s hungry too. He gets up, walks on water-”
“The rabbi walks on water?” Brett asked, incredulously.
“Yes,” Ollie said, “in fact, the rabbi walks on water. Explain that one, Christians. So he walks on the water, gets a snack, and comes back to the boat. So now, the... the minister?”
“The priest,” Autumn and Brett harmonized. Ollie wagged his head, mimicking them.
“Well excuse me.” He stopped for a second. “See, that’s why I always end on the rabbi. I can keep track of them that way.” He sighed. “So the priest gets fed up with all this and figures, you know, if the Jewish guy can walk on water, so can I. So he tells them he’s going to get a snack, stands up, steps into the water, and plunges in. The rabbi turned to the priest-”
“The minister!” Autumn yelled, smiling.
“I did it that time on purpose,” he chuckled, hoping no one would know he was bluffing. “The rabbi turns to the minister and says, ‘I guess he doesn’t know where the stepping stones are!’” Ollie looked at his audience for approval. Brett chuckled politely. Autumn laughed outright.
“I like that joke,” she said, with her spirits lightened. Brett coughed and shuffled his feet.
“So,” he said launching into his spiel once again, “Can I interest you in something to start with?”
“We’ll have two waters,” Ollie replied. Brett’s face contorted, as though hiding a great pain behind a smile.
“Two waters,” he repeated. He popped his lips. “Yeah, coming right up.” He walked away and turned the corner into the kitchen. Autumn looked up at Ollie and kissed him on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“You’re sweet,” she replied.
“No, I’m not,” he blushed slightly and turned away. “I just told a crappy joke.”
“It’s not crappy. I like it a lot.”
“Yeah?”
“I like it when you tell it.” She looked straight into his eyes and smiled contentedly. “You always know how to make me smile.” Ollie smiled back and wrapped his arms around her. They held each other close, sharing the moment to themselves. After all that had happened in the past few days, broken arm and all, neither one of them could give each other up for anything in the world.
“Honey?” Ollie said, shaking her slightly.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Brett’s totally going to spit in our water.”
Chapter 2.
Daniel Krakowski rolled over in bed to lay on his left side. His right arm was asleep, to the point where it felt as though it no longer existed. He had always been a heavy sleeper. He tried to shake his arm out and wake it up. It worked. Almost too well. The feeling came back into his arm with a sensation of pins and needles. He blinked his eyes a few times. It was a beautiful Saturday morning by all accounts. All accounts except Daniel’s, that is, since his room blocked all light from the outside world. He liked it that way. It always allowed him to get a good amount of sleep without worrying about the world around him. It also used to be important for his long nights of gaming.
Daniel didn’t play videogames like most people he knew. His friends generally played social, party games. He stuck to one-player games, and he stayed addicted to them for extensive periods of time. He had loved all the Final Fantasy games. When those games were remade, he bought them for the new system and played them all over again. Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time kept him hooked so well, he played through it three times in a row. Every Metroid release saw him in front of the TV for days. But for Daniel, nothing could beat the ever-haunting lure of his favorite series, The Legend of Zelda. In fact, it was the only game of his to have its own hallowed tradition. Every year, on October 19th, Daniel would celebrate the first time he played The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past by playing it again, all the way through. He began this tradition in middle school, continued it in high school, and showed no sign of stopping now in college. In fact, he gained a rather fun nickname from his obsession: in his freshman year of high school, his friend Matt started calling him Link. He began introducing himself as such, even going so far as to deny his true name upon inquiry.
One night, in his first year of college, Link had a very interesting encounter. At the ripe old age of nineteen, he had tried his first sip of alcohol. It was nothing much, according to his friends. A chick drink, they called it. Link soon realized how little he minded the taste of the alcohol, and he asked to try something a little harder.
It was all downhill from there.
In his newly inebriated state, he sat down next to Matt and patted him on the knee. Matt looked at him curiously. It was a look Link still remembered. He never seemed to be able to place it. Matt asked, rather soberly, if he was alright. Link nodded his head.
“So tomorrow’s the nineteenth,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
“So?” Link asked.
“Your tradition, man! If you don’t stop drinking, you’re gonna have a hangover for three weeks!” He composed himself a little more before continuing. “You can’t break tradition now.”
“Heh heh, yeah,” Link dropped the words from his mouth. “I’ll be getting my sword on.” He mimed the swinging of a sword in the air. “Kickin’ the shit out of useless creatures. Findin’ hidden paths.” He stood up slowly and did a few faux karate moves. “Those guys won’t know what hit ‘em.”
“Yeah?” Matt asked, amused. “What about Ganon?”
“Fuck Ganon.” Link sat down again. “I wish I could just live in the game, man.” Matt listened solemnly. “Read books, collect swords and... and medals and shit.”
“Might be dangerous, don’t you think?”
“Man, have you seen me play? Have you?” He pointed a finger into Matt’s face. “’Cause if you’d seen me play, I don’t lose lives.” He dropped his hand. “Fuck, man. No one could touch me.”
Two years had passed since then. Now at a legal drinking age, Link had ironically given up alcohol. He decided he had made too much of a fool of himself in front of his quiet, introspective friends like Matt. He started dating a year before, at the age of twenty, and was with the same girl now as he was then, a girl named Sarah. It didn’t take long for her to be branded with jokingly familiar nicknames. Some called her Zelda, after the main heroine of the classic series. Some called her Saria, for its resemblance to both her name and the name of a childhood friend of Link’s in the game Ocarina of Time. Some chose the somewhat oblique names of Peach or Daisy, referring to a different videogame series entirely. Nobody really liked those people. Link himself found those names more insulting than the others, since it not only denigrated Sarah to the same role of prized object as the others did, but it completely disrespected his favorite series of games.
On this summer Saturday morning, however, none of this was on his mind. At least, not until he jolted in bed to the sound of a cell phone ringing next to him. He knew the tune at once, yet he couldn’t quite place it. He hummed along sleepily before several important thoughts crossed his mind. His first realization was that the tune was Saria’s Song, a song from the aforementioned Ocarina of Time. His second realization came as a bit more of a shock.
He had no phone with a Saria’s Song ringtone.
He rolled over again, propping himself up with a half-asleep arm. He squinted at the cell phone’s screen. It glowed brightly, but he couldn’t read the text on it. He flicked on his lamp, picked up the phone, and brought it close to his face. He read it three times, each time unsure that he was, in fact, still awake. “Ganon,” it read. After a few rings, the phone settled down. The front now told him he had one missed call. Link chuckled at the prank his friends had clearly pulled on him, and he set the phone down again. Almost immediately, it resumed its ringing. He flipped it open and answered it.
“Who is this?” he asked, laughing sleepily.
“I’ve taken Zelda,” said a deep voice from the other end. “Only now can my task be completed.”
“Matt?” Link guessed. “Quit fuckin’ around, man.”
“My name is Ganon!” the voice shouted from the other end. Definitely Matt, Link thought. “I have kidnapped Zelda for her Triforce of Wisdom. The only task left is to find the one with the Triforce of Power. I believe it is you, Link. So I will ask you once. Wi- ...oi- ...in the strug-...” Link chuckled a little.
“Could you repeat that? You’re cutting out.”
“I told you I would ask you once. Your disrespectful refusal to comply will be your undoing, dear Link.”
“No, I really didn’t-”
“You have chosen to fight against me in this struggle. I hope you understand the terror you have wreaked upon your own life. Goodbye.” The call ended before Link had a chance to respond. The number was already in the phone as “Ganon,” he figured, so a call back ought to explain everything. As he looked down at the screen, he found a rather disturbing picture set to the phone’s wallpaper: a picture of Matt wearing a Ganondorf mask and standing over Sarah, who lay on the floor with tape on her mouth and her limbs tied together.
“That’s a little too far,” he said out loud. Now armed with the new purpose of telling Matt off, he found the address book and called Ganon’s number. It rang four times, followed by a short click. Rather than a standard voicemail message, only a slow, demonic laughing sound could be heard. This was immediately followed by an automated voice stating menu options. Link hung up. He sat for a few seconds in awe of the ridiculousness of this sudden prank. He idly scratched his right hand. If Matt had already gone so far as to plant a cell phone, he thought, with such a disturbing photo, what else could he be capable of?
The phone rang once again. This time, the caller ID read “Zelda.” Alright, he thought, here’s the punchline. He answered the call.
“Hey honey,” he said, pretending to be oblivious to the situation. He heard no distinct response, but instead heard the sound of short, panicked breaths. “Sarah, are you there?”
“Help me,” came her voice through the labored breathing. “You must...” she gasped, “You must find the scrolls.” Link’s heart sank. A prank is one thing, he thought. Convincing the one person most important to him to sound so distressed was terribly disturbing.
“Baby, look,” he started, “just knock it off. This isn’t funny. You guys are actually scaring me. Alright?” There was no response. “I give in. I’m gullible. You win. Now stop this, and tell Matt to stop it too.” Her breaths came shorter and shorter. She screamed loudly into the phone, startling Link and making him drop his new phone. When he looked down, the call had been ended.
Sarah was deathly afraid of spiders. There were times Link had to divert her attention to kill a spider or disperse a cobweb, just to keep her from panicking. There were times he wasn’t so smooth in his operations, and she would shriek. She was afraid of heights. There were times on elevators when she would cling tightly to Link’s arm to keep herself steady, and she made startled gasps when the elevator started and stopped. But never before had Link encountered a scream like the one he just heard. It made his heart pound and his adrenaline rush. Something about this wasn’t right.
The night of his encounter with Matt rushed back into his head. He had almost forgotten it in a drunken haze, but with the pieces falling into place around him, it all started to fit together.
“Uh oh,” he said aloud. He rushed out of bed and ran to his closet. He opened it up and turned on the light. His normal clothes were nowhere to be seen. Instead, hanging from the railing, he found seven pairs of brown pants and three green tunics. “Uh oh...” he said again. He closed the closet in haste, deciding his pajamas would be fine for the moment. He grabbed his new phone and ran out of his room, down the stairs, and out the door.
The morning light hit him like a truck. He shot his hand in the air to guard his eyes from the light. As his eyes adjusted, he began to survey the scene around him. An old woman next door rocked on her porch. Across the street, two children tossed a ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. To his left, he found two grown men in jester outfits, juggling three balls between them. He kept his eyes on them for almost a minute. They never stopped juggling. They never missed a catch. He jogged toward them. In the unfenced area between the two houses, a kid in a red jumpsuit stood in the yard and peered at Link. As he jogged closer to the juggling men, the boy tripped slightly over his own feet and ran into the backyard. Link approached the juggling men.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“We’re the brothers Barish!” replied one of the men, never losing his juggling rhythm. “We tried to find work at the traveling circus, but when Ganon’s spell was cast, our ringleader... well, you know how it goes.”
“Not really,” Link said, hoping for an explanation.
“If you give me three dollars, I can sell you a town map!” the other man said excitedly. “We’re having a sale today, on account of all the recent changes. It’s important for people to know where they’re going!” Link stared, dumbfounded. “So, can I interest you?” The man stared at Link, his face frozen in inquiry, his hands continuing to juggle without flaw.
“I... I think I’ll be fine, thanks,” he uttered. The man shrugged and turned towards his brother once more.
“Well, if you ever change your mind, we’re the brothers Barish!” he said excitedly. “You can always count on us!” Link hesitated, unsure of his next move. This is absolutely ridiculous, he thought. But if Matt were the one planning this, maybe they have something to say about these scrolls.
“Say,” he started, “do you know anything about, um... any scrolls?”
“We’re the brothers Barish!” the first man replied once again. “We tried to find work at the traveling circus, but when Ganon’s spell was cast, our ringleader... well, you know how it goes.” Link’s shoulders dropped. He walked away as the first brother continued his boring tirade. As he walked back towards his house, he saw that the kid in the red jumpsuit had come back to the front of the yard. As soon as the kid was spotted, he tripped slightly over his legs and ran to the backyard once again. Link sighed.
“This is gonna be a really long day.”
I HAVE been writing for NaNoWriMo. Just... um, not much. At all. I'm up to 10,044. That's nice. That's where I wanted to be about two weeks ago. So... yeah. But I haven't put this up online in a while, so here you guys go. All none of you. Well, Hiedi. So, one person.
Be warned: Chapter 2 has nothing to do with Chapter 1. Or the prologue. At all. I warned you.
“And her name is Pesto because...”
“Oh, right. Well, the birthing itself was so short that, um...” Autumn began giggling uncontrollably. “When she was born, her dad waved his arms out in front of his wife’s legs and yelled, ‘Presto!’”
Ollie stared at Autumn in a look of comic shock, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.
“No way,” he said.
“Way,” confirmed Autumn. “And when they asked for the baby’s name, her dad tried to call her Presto. His wife didn’t like that, though, so they had to compromise.”
“And their compromise was ‘Pesto?’”
“Like I said, man,” Autumn shrugged, “they’re all crazy.” The two of them sat in silence as they struggled to find words.
“I don’t think I can top that,” Ollie said with a smile. “Like, I’m sitting here thinking about weird names I know, but none of them are nearly as good.”
“Oh yeah? What are the bad ones?”
“Well... you know Paige, right?”
“Paige?” she asked, curious. “That’s not very weird.”
“It is if you know why they named her Paige.”
“Why?”
“Well,” he started. “You know that Simon and Garfunkel song, ‘Scarborough Fair?’ ‘Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme?’”
“Yeah...?”
“Parsley and sage,” he said, expectantly. “Paige.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Autumn said, not laughing. They sat in silence once again. Ollie looked at Autumn. She was looking out the window, distracted by the bright lights of the strip malls. Ollie sighed quietly. He wondered if he’d ever have anything interesting to say.
* * *
Ollie kicked the ground beneath his chair. He had an itch on his right ankle. He bent over to scratch it, but he found his right arm immobile. He sighed and twisted his body to bring his left arm over instead. Autumn giggled.
“How’s the cast?” she asked, trying to contain her laughter. Ollie mimicked her laughter teasingly.
“It’s um... it’s a cast alright.”
“Do I get to sign it?” she asked sweetly. “I’ve always wanted to be the first to sign someone’s cast.”
“Sure,” he said, smiling slightly. “Do you have a marker?”
“Well, no,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I’ll sign it when we get home.”
“Okay.” He swung his arm out to his side and back several times, getting used to the feel of it. He stopped swinging and stared at his forearm.
“What’s wrong?” Autumn asked.
“Nothing, just...” Ollie grabbed the cast at his forearm, shook it, and let it go. He sighed. “I have an itch on my arm.”
“Well maybe if you hadn’t tripped down the stairs,” Autumn taunted, “you’d be able to scratch it.”
“Yeah, that’s really nice of you.” He began hitting the cast lightly, in hopes of incidentally scratching the itch. It didn’t work. He kept doing it, until he hit the cast hard enough to bring back the pain that immobilized it in the first place. He jumped backwards in his chair.
“Here,” Autumn suggested, “close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Just do it. Close your eyes.” Ollie complied. Knowing Autumn, he thought, there’s a good chance she’ll just poke me while I’m distracted. “Okay,” she continued. “Now, you need to center yourself.”
“What?” he asked skeptically, keeping his eyes closed as his face contorted.
“Find your center. Find your self.” As she spoke, her own body relaxed. She hoped that would come through in the way she spoke. “Breathe in the good energy, breathe out the bad.” He breathed deeper, pushing his breaths out with a sigh.
“This is really relaxing,” he said as though no one were listening. Autumn smiled.
“Now open your eyes.” He again complied. His eyes blinked open a few times, adjusting once again to the light of the doctor’s office. She opened her eyes slowly. “How do you feel?” she asked sweetly.
“Surprisingly relaxed,” he said with a contented sigh. “Where did you learn that?”
“My family,” she said. He nodded. With a family like hers, no further explanation was necessary. She nodded her head towards his cast. “How’s the arm?”
“It doesn’t hurt too bad,” he said nonchalantly.
“Does it itch?” she asked. Ollie looked down at his arm, then looked up and smiled.
“No,” he replied. “No, it doesn’t itch anymore.”
“Good,” she smiled. The two shared a loving glance. This was soon interrupted by the office door swinging open. In walked a man in medical garb, who looked at Ollie and smiled.
“How’s the cast?” the doctor asked. He walked to the desk, sat in the rolling chair, and rolled over in front of Ollie.
“Not bad,” he replied. “I’m glad I’m left-handed.” The doctor chuckled.
“Yeah, it could have been a lot worse.” The three of them shared an awkward pause. The doctor turned his attention to Autumn. “You’re driving him home, right?”
“Indeed, I am,” she replied. “I wouldn’t make him drive home like this.” The doctor discussed the finer points of caring for his arm for the next few weeks, and the two were led out to the receptionist. No payments were made, but insurance was exchanged. They both knew even with insurance, paying this off would be a royal pain in the ass.
“Would you like to get some food after this?” Autumn asked. Ollie gave her a look that seemed to ask, “why would you ask about that right now?” She looked embarrassed and glanced away. “Just asking...” she tried to explain.
“Yeah,” he replied, “we can go out. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I just thought you’d like a nice meal after... you know, after this whole experience.”
“T’would be nice, m’love.”
“T’would?” she asked, amused at his choice of words.
“T’would.” He smiled at her. They finished up at the office and made their way out to the car. Autumn walked to the driver’s side door, and Ollie went to the passenger door. He grabbed the handle with his left hand and tried to swing the door open with his right. It didn’t work quite like he expected in his head. He bent over, trying to push the door open with the back of his arm, avoiding the broken bone. Autumn watched him with a straight face. She jogged to the other side of the car as he sat down. She closed the door for him. He looked up at her sweetly. She walked back to her side of the car and got in.
“So,” she said, smirking slightly, “how’s it feel, needing someone to, you know, constantly take care of you?”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, half smiling and half serious. “I could have gotten the door myself. I got in just fine.”
“Yeah, I saw that little dance you did.” Her smile broke through her quiet smirk. “You were all like, ‘Oh, look at me, I can’t do such simple tasks as opening a door. How on Earth shall I ever survive?’”
“That was me?”
“Yeah, that was you. Totally.”
“Good to know,” he said with a nod of acceptance. She put her seat belt on. He wagged his head as he retorted, “Bitch.” She scoffed and faked offense.
“I guess you don’t want dinner now.”
“Fine then,” he called her bluff. She turned the car on and hesitated.
“Is Kaufman’s okay?” she asked.
“That sounds lovely,” he said with a cheesy smile. “I love you, baby.”
“Sigh. I love you too.” Ollie loved the way she had to say the word “sigh” instead of simply sighing. He put his seat belt on, and they drove off.
* * *
Ollie sat down in the booth at Kaufman’s. It was a small, dingy restaurant on the outskirts of town. Only three other people were dining there this afternoon. Autumn looked at Ollie on one side of the booth, looked at the other, empty side, and looked back at him. She sat down next to him and scooted in close.
“Do you have an issue?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Just you.” He put his arm around her. The hostess walked away, telling them their waiter would be on his way shortly. Ollie thanked her. He pulled Autumn in closer with his good arm.
“So glad this arm still works,” he said. She laughed.
“Yeah, you didn’t fling this one into the flippin’ wall.”
“Oh, ha ha,” he said sarcastically. “Thanks for that.”
“What?” she said innocently. “I still don’t understand what possessed you to throw your arm out like that.”
“I told you,” he explained. “I thought there was one more step, and I lost my balance.”
“So you chucked your arm into the wall.”
“It was instinct! Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”
“Psh. No,” she replied. Apparently, her answer wasn’t quite good enough for Ollie. He pushed her lightly towards the edge of the booth, knowing she would lose her balance quite easily. She shouted, and her arm shot out to the edge of the cushion to keep her from falling off. Ollie shook his head smugly.
“See?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, half angrily, “but I was trying to catch myself. You didn’t even come close to catching yourself. You just flung your arm out in any direction it would go.”
“I was panicking!”
“You were stupid, okay?” she said, followed by a burst of laughter. He licked his lips and made a popping noise. She recognized that face. “I’m just joking around, I would have done the exact same thing.”
“Good,” he said.
“Besides, if it had been me, I probably would have cracked my skull open or something. You know my luck.” He chuckled to himself and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, lost in thought. “This is only the third time in two days I’ve almost died, so...” he trailed off without finishing his thought. Autumn’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “What happened? You almost died? You never told me you almost died!” Ollie attempted to speak, but Autumn’s worried ramblings kept cutting in. “What happened? Did someone try to shank you?”
“What? No, nothing like that.” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. This didn’t help Autumn’s nerves, and she couldn’t help but ask more questions.
“When did it happen? Was it your fault?”
“Quit it,” he said, concentrating. “I’m trying to figure out how to explain it.”
“Fine,” she said, sitting straight up. She made a zipper motion across her lips and nodded towards him.
“So,” he began, “last night, on the way out to the mall to bring you your key...” He paused again. She bounced in her seat, keeping her lips tucked inside her mouth. “There were a couple altercations.”
“Mmm!” she squealed, looking concerned. He chuckled.
“I’m okay, aren’t I? Nothing too bad happened.” She calmed down a little, but only enough to stop making concerned noises. “So... I was on this little back road, and this truck got in front of me.” She stared. “He was going ass slow. I needed to pass him, and I had the dotted yellow line. So I checked the other lane and started going around him.”
“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled in concern.
“Well, as soon as I started passing him, the asshole sped up.” Autumn squealed. “And it would have been fine, but another car was coming the other way, so... well, I swerved out of the way before anything happened.” Her eyes widened. She sat motionless. “I- I said nothing happened.”
“I know,” she said, barely moving. “That’s just scary. I would have freaked out. I mean... I’m glad you’re okay, love.”
“Me too,” he added. “So that was that. Um... the other incident, though,” he continued. “I was um... I thought I could make the green light.”
“MMM!” Autumn squealed again.
“Are you going to do that through my whole story?” he asked. She hardly responded, still considering the way his story began. She motioned him to continue. “Okay,” he said. “I was trying to turn left at this intersection, and I thought I had enough time on the green light. But this guy came out from the other way and shot into the intersection on the yellow light.” Autumn’s eyes widened once again. “So I had to hit my brakes. Well, the guy behind me stopped in time... but the guy behind him didn’t stop as quickly.” He checked her reaction. She seemed frozen in shock. “So, that guy tapped the other guy, and they both got really pissed at me. Meanwhile, I’m stuck out in the intersection. It took, like, fifteen minutes to get everything sorted out.”
“Are you in trouble?” she asked innocently. “Do you have to pay someone?”
“No,” he said. “There was barely any damage. Like I said, the cars only tapped. There was a little dent in the one guy’s car, and he seemed to like the sound of his own voice, so we were stuck there forever,” Ollie explained, brushing the incident off. It wasn’t until he looked back at Autumn once again that he realized how scary his story must have sounded. “Baby,” he said, leaning in and reaching his arm around her. “Are you okay?”
“You almost died,” she said, still petrified. “Twice.” Ollie shook his head at her.
“I was being hyperbolic,” he explained sweetly. “I didn’t almost die. Everything worked out fine, and I got to you, so... whatever, right?” She didn’t seem satisfied with this. He tried again. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” She leaned into him and rested on his shoulder. He hugged her tightly.
“If it weren’t for me, none of that would have happened,” she worried. Ollie’s jaw dropped a little as he realized her concern. He immediately tried to comfort her and explain himself better.
“Baby,” he tried. “I was safe enough to make it there fine. I would have felt terrible leaving you out there for any longer than you already were.” She shook her head in his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have been stuck out there in the first place,” she reasoned. “If I had been smart enough to remember my keys, none of that would have happened.”
“Well, come on,” he responded, “everyone makes mistakes, love. And it wasn’t your fault for the way I drove. You might as well blame yourself for being born in the first place.”
“I shouldn’t have been born!” she said impressionably, hiding more and more from Ollie’s eyes. He just sighed.
“Honey, that’s not what I meant.”
“Yes it is. You said I should never have been born.”
“I never said that, actually.”
“Well that’s what I heard.” She tried not to look up at him. He thought he felt her moving a little, so he pulled her in closer. He realized quickly that she was bouncing slightly in his arms.
“Are... are you crying, honey?”
“Maybe.” She sniffed. “What does it matter?”
“Baby...” he started, reaching his right hand, cast and all, to lift up her chin. She chuckled through her slight tears.
“That cast cracks me up,” she said, attempting to cover up her emotions. She paused. “Unless that’s my fault too.”
“No,” he quickly responded. “The cast was all me. Just like everything else last night.” She didn’t seem persuaded.
“I just... lately, I don’t think I can do anything right,” she said, trying to unburden herself. “I was even thinking that at the doctor’s office, like... I didn’t know whether I was helping or not. I feel like I was covering a lot up to make you feel better.”
“What did you have to cover up?” he asked. She shook her head.
“I don’t know, I just felt like I needed to.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Like I was being really fake.”
“Trust me, you weren’t being fake.”
“You think?” She sniffled.
“Yeah.” He kissed her on the cheek, which made her smile. “You were just being you, and you were helping me out. It was sweet of you to drive me around.”
“Okay,” she said, trying to control her tears.
“Do you understand what I mean about all this?” he asked hopefully.
“Kinda?”
“There’s no reason for you to feel so bad, love,” he explained. “I know things are stressful right now, but... that doesn’t mean you have to worry about things between us. I wouldn’t have come to get you at the mall if I didn’t love you, but I do, so I did. And I accept the fact that you’re clumsy,” he said, laughing slightly. “It just makes us a clumsy couple.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, trying to regain her joking tone. “At least I don’t fling my arm into random walls.”
“You’re just not gonna drop that, are you?”
“Do you really want me to?”
“No,” Ollie smiled. “I guess not.” Autumn leaned once again into Ollie’s shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.
“Where’s our waiter?” Autumn asked suddenly. “I’m getting really hungry.”
“He’s probably laughing at us somewhere,” he joked. “Maybe he quit in the middle of his shift.”
“I don’t know,” she said, closing her eyes. Ollie nudged her slightly.
“You okay?”
“I’m just trying to snap out of it,” she explained. Ollie thought for a second.
“So there’s these three monks,” he started. “In a monastery.”
“Yeah?”
“They’ve taken a vow of silence, but every year, one of them is allowed to speak a single sentence.” He paused. “Have you heard this joke before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay.” He continued. “So the first year comes around, and the first monk gets to talk. So he opens his mouth and says, ‘I love oatmeal.’” He nudged Autumn again. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, slightly annoyed. “Keep going.”
“So another year goes by. None of them say a word to each other while they do their monk... stuff.”
“Monk stuff?”
“Sure,” he said, brushing off his horrible ad-lib. “So it hits the second year, and the second monk gets to speak. He says, ‘I hate oatmeal.’ So now it hits the third year, and the third monk gets to say his sentence. He goes, ‘I’m sick and tired of this constant bickering over oatmeal!’” Ollie paused for her laughter. She chuckled a little.
“Funny,” she said, clicking her tongue. “I haven’t heard that one before.”
“Did you like it?” he asked, nudging her again. She seemed unresponsive.
“I mean, it was alright.” She nuzzled his shoulder. “You’ve told better jokes before.”
“Oh,” he said with a smile. “I know what you mean. I think you liked that other joke better.”
“Hm?”
“Okay, so... a priest, a rabbi, and a minister are on a boat,” he began. Autumn cracked a smile.
“I like this joke,” she said, rubbing her head on his shoulder. Ollie held her tighter and opened his mouth to speak. Instead, another voice floated across the table. The waiter had finally shown up.
“Hey, welcome to Kaufman’s! How are you folks doing tonight?” Ollie had no time to answer. “My name’s Brett, and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you off with an appetizer tonight? Our specials for the evening are the potato leek soup, clam chowder, and beef stew, and we’ve got a special new drink, the Frosty Cold ICE-inerator, which comes with choice of-”
“Shh,” Ollie interrupted, sticking his index finger into the air. Brett paused. The three exchanged mostly confused glances. Ollie still held his finger in the air. He used it to point at Brett and emphasize his words. “Three men are in a boat,” he said, as if it were a matter of grave importance. Brett cocked his head to the side.
“Okay,” he said. Ollie looked at Autumn and continued his story.
“A priest, a minister, and a rabbi,” he explained. “They’re all in this boat.” He turned to Brett. “Have you heard this one before?”
“I- I don’t think so, sir.”
“Okay. So, a priest, a minister, and a rabbi, all in a boat.” He paused for dramatic effect. “The minister looks at the rabbi and tells him-”
“I thought it was the priest first,” Autumn interrupted.
“It’s a joke,” he explained. “Jokes change with time.”
“I’m just saying, it was the priest first the first time.”
“Noted,” he said, brushing her off. “But it’s the minister this time. And he looks at the rabbi and tells him he’s getting hungry. So the minister stands up, walks off the side of the boat, steps onto the water, and walks back to shore. He walks over to the snack bar-”
“There’s a snack bar now?” Autumn interrupted.
“Yeah, there was a snack bar before, too,” he said, slightly irritated. “May I?”
“By all means.”
“Good. So he goes to the snack bar and gets a Snickers bar, then walks across the water again and gets back on the boat. The priest is all like, ‘What the hell just happened here.’ So the rabbi says he’s hungry too. He gets up, walks on water-”
“The rabbi walks on water?” Brett asked, incredulously.
“Yes,” Ollie said, “in fact, the rabbi walks on water. Explain that one, Christians. So he walks on the water, gets a snack, and comes back to the boat. So now, the... the minister?”
“The priest,” Autumn and Brett harmonized. Ollie wagged his head, mimicking them.
“Well excuse me.” He stopped for a second. “See, that’s why I always end on the rabbi. I can keep track of them that way.” He sighed. “So the priest gets fed up with all this and figures, you know, if the Jewish guy can walk on water, so can I. So he tells them he’s going to get a snack, stands up, steps into the water, and plunges in. The rabbi turned to the priest-”
“The minister!” Autumn yelled, smiling.
“I did it that time on purpose,” he chuckled, hoping no one would know he was bluffing. “The rabbi turns to the minister and says, ‘I guess he doesn’t know where the stepping stones are!’” Ollie looked at his audience for approval. Brett chuckled politely. Autumn laughed outright.
“I like that joke,” she said, with her spirits lightened. Brett coughed and shuffled his feet.
“So,” he said launching into his spiel once again, “Can I interest you in something to start with?”
“We’ll have two waters,” Ollie replied. Brett’s face contorted, as though hiding a great pain behind a smile.
“Two waters,” he repeated. He popped his lips. “Yeah, coming right up.” He walked away and turned the corner into the kitchen. Autumn looked up at Ollie and kissed him on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“You’re sweet,” she replied.
“No, I’m not,” he blushed slightly and turned away. “I just told a crappy joke.”
“It’s not crappy. I like it a lot.”
“Yeah?”
“I like it when you tell it.” She looked straight into his eyes and smiled contentedly. “You always know how to make me smile.” Ollie smiled back and wrapped his arms around her. They held each other close, sharing the moment to themselves. After all that had happened in the past few days, broken arm and all, neither one of them could give each other up for anything in the world.
“Honey?” Ollie said, shaking her slightly.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Brett’s totally going to spit in our water.”
Chapter 2.
Daniel Krakowski rolled over in bed to lay on his left side. His right arm was asleep, to the point where it felt as though it no longer existed. He had always been a heavy sleeper. He tried to shake his arm out and wake it up. It worked. Almost too well. The feeling came back into his arm with a sensation of pins and needles. He blinked his eyes a few times. It was a beautiful Saturday morning by all accounts. All accounts except Daniel’s, that is, since his room blocked all light from the outside world. He liked it that way. It always allowed him to get a good amount of sleep without worrying about the world around him. It also used to be important for his long nights of gaming.
Daniel didn’t play videogames like most people he knew. His friends generally played social, party games. He stuck to one-player games, and he stayed addicted to them for extensive periods of time. He had loved all the Final Fantasy games. When those games were remade, he bought them for the new system and played them all over again. Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time kept him hooked so well, he played through it three times in a row. Every Metroid release saw him in front of the TV for days. But for Daniel, nothing could beat the ever-haunting lure of his favorite series, The Legend of Zelda. In fact, it was the only game of his to have its own hallowed tradition. Every year, on October 19th, Daniel would celebrate the first time he played The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past by playing it again, all the way through. He began this tradition in middle school, continued it in high school, and showed no sign of stopping now in college. In fact, he gained a rather fun nickname from his obsession: in his freshman year of high school, his friend Matt started calling him Link. He began introducing himself as such, even going so far as to deny his true name upon inquiry.
One night, in his first year of college, Link had a very interesting encounter. At the ripe old age of nineteen, he had tried his first sip of alcohol. It was nothing much, according to his friends. A chick drink, they called it. Link soon realized how little he minded the taste of the alcohol, and he asked to try something a little harder.
It was all downhill from there.
In his newly inebriated state, he sat down next to Matt and patted him on the knee. Matt looked at him curiously. It was a look Link still remembered. He never seemed to be able to place it. Matt asked, rather soberly, if he was alright. Link nodded his head.
“So tomorrow’s the nineteenth,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
“So?” Link asked.
“Your tradition, man! If you don’t stop drinking, you’re gonna have a hangover for three weeks!” He composed himself a little more before continuing. “You can’t break tradition now.”
“Heh heh, yeah,” Link dropped the words from his mouth. “I’ll be getting my sword on.” He mimed the swinging of a sword in the air. “Kickin’ the shit out of useless creatures. Findin’ hidden paths.” He stood up slowly and did a few faux karate moves. “Those guys won’t know what hit ‘em.”
“Yeah?” Matt asked, amused. “What about Ganon?”
“Fuck Ganon.” Link sat down again. “I wish I could just live in the game, man.” Matt listened solemnly. “Read books, collect swords and... and medals and shit.”
“Might be dangerous, don’t you think?”
“Man, have you seen me play? Have you?” He pointed a finger into Matt’s face. “’Cause if you’d seen me play, I don’t lose lives.” He dropped his hand. “Fuck, man. No one could touch me.”
Two years had passed since then. Now at a legal drinking age, Link had ironically given up alcohol. He decided he had made too much of a fool of himself in front of his quiet, introspective friends like Matt. He started dating a year before, at the age of twenty, and was with the same girl now as he was then, a girl named Sarah. It didn’t take long for her to be branded with jokingly familiar nicknames. Some called her Zelda, after the main heroine of the classic series. Some called her Saria, for its resemblance to both her name and the name of a childhood friend of Link’s in the game Ocarina of Time. Some chose the somewhat oblique names of Peach or Daisy, referring to a different videogame series entirely. Nobody really liked those people. Link himself found those names more insulting than the others, since it not only denigrated Sarah to the same role of prized object as the others did, but it completely disrespected his favorite series of games.
On this summer Saturday morning, however, none of this was on his mind. At least, not until he jolted in bed to the sound of a cell phone ringing next to him. He knew the tune at once, yet he couldn’t quite place it. He hummed along sleepily before several important thoughts crossed his mind. His first realization was that the tune was Saria’s Song, a song from the aforementioned Ocarina of Time. His second realization came as a bit more of a shock.
He had no phone with a Saria’s Song ringtone.
He rolled over again, propping himself up with a half-asleep arm. He squinted at the cell phone’s screen. It glowed brightly, but he couldn’t read the text on it. He flicked on his lamp, picked up the phone, and brought it close to his face. He read it three times, each time unsure that he was, in fact, still awake. “Ganon,” it read. After a few rings, the phone settled down. The front now told him he had one missed call. Link chuckled at the prank his friends had clearly pulled on him, and he set the phone down again. Almost immediately, it resumed its ringing. He flipped it open and answered it.
“Who is this?” he asked, laughing sleepily.
“I’ve taken Zelda,” said a deep voice from the other end. “Only now can my task be completed.”
“Matt?” Link guessed. “Quit fuckin’ around, man.”
“My name is Ganon!” the voice shouted from the other end. Definitely Matt, Link thought. “I have kidnapped Zelda for her Triforce of Wisdom. The only task left is to find the one with the Triforce of Power. I believe it is you, Link. So I will ask you once. Wi- ...oi- ...in the strug-...” Link chuckled a little.
“Could you repeat that? You’re cutting out.”
“I told you I would ask you once. Your disrespectful refusal to comply will be your undoing, dear Link.”
“No, I really didn’t-”
“You have chosen to fight against me in this struggle. I hope you understand the terror you have wreaked upon your own life. Goodbye.” The call ended before Link had a chance to respond. The number was already in the phone as “Ganon,” he figured, so a call back ought to explain everything. As he looked down at the screen, he found a rather disturbing picture set to the phone’s wallpaper: a picture of Matt wearing a Ganondorf mask and standing over Sarah, who lay on the floor with tape on her mouth and her limbs tied together.
“That’s a little too far,” he said out loud. Now armed with the new purpose of telling Matt off, he found the address book and called Ganon’s number. It rang four times, followed by a short click. Rather than a standard voicemail message, only a slow, demonic laughing sound could be heard. This was immediately followed by an automated voice stating menu options. Link hung up. He sat for a few seconds in awe of the ridiculousness of this sudden prank. He idly scratched his right hand. If Matt had already gone so far as to plant a cell phone, he thought, with such a disturbing photo, what else could he be capable of?
The phone rang once again. This time, the caller ID read “Zelda.” Alright, he thought, here’s the punchline. He answered the call.
“Hey honey,” he said, pretending to be oblivious to the situation. He heard no distinct response, but instead heard the sound of short, panicked breaths. “Sarah, are you there?”
“Help me,” came her voice through the labored breathing. “You must...” she gasped, “You must find the scrolls.” Link’s heart sank. A prank is one thing, he thought. Convincing the one person most important to him to sound so distressed was terribly disturbing.
“Baby, look,” he started, “just knock it off. This isn’t funny. You guys are actually scaring me. Alright?” There was no response. “I give in. I’m gullible. You win. Now stop this, and tell Matt to stop it too.” Her breaths came shorter and shorter. She screamed loudly into the phone, startling Link and making him drop his new phone. When he looked down, the call had been ended.
Sarah was deathly afraid of spiders. There were times Link had to divert her attention to kill a spider or disperse a cobweb, just to keep her from panicking. There were times he wasn’t so smooth in his operations, and she would shriek. She was afraid of heights. There were times on elevators when she would cling tightly to Link’s arm to keep herself steady, and she made startled gasps when the elevator started and stopped. But never before had Link encountered a scream like the one he just heard. It made his heart pound and his adrenaline rush. Something about this wasn’t right.
The night of his encounter with Matt rushed back into his head. He had almost forgotten it in a drunken haze, but with the pieces falling into place around him, it all started to fit together.
“Uh oh,” he said aloud. He rushed out of bed and ran to his closet. He opened it up and turned on the light. His normal clothes were nowhere to be seen. Instead, hanging from the railing, he found seven pairs of brown pants and three green tunics. “Uh oh...” he said again. He closed the closet in haste, deciding his pajamas would be fine for the moment. He grabbed his new phone and ran out of his room, down the stairs, and out the door.
The morning light hit him like a truck. He shot his hand in the air to guard his eyes from the light. As his eyes adjusted, he began to survey the scene around him. An old woman next door rocked on her porch. Across the street, two children tossed a ball back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. To his left, he found two grown men in jester outfits, juggling three balls between them. He kept his eyes on them for almost a minute. They never stopped juggling. They never missed a catch. He jogged toward them. In the unfenced area between the two houses, a kid in a red jumpsuit stood in the yard and peered at Link. As he jogged closer to the juggling men, the boy tripped slightly over his own feet and ran into the backyard. Link approached the juggling men.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“We’re the brothers Barish!” replied one of the men, never losing his juggling rhythm. “We tried to find work at the traveling circus, but when Ganon’s spell was cast, our ringleader... well, you know how it goes.”
“Not really,” Link said, hoping for an explanation.
“If you give me three dollars, I can sell you a town map!” the other man said excitedly. “We’re having a sale today, on account of all the recent changes. It’s important for people to know where they’re going!” Link stared, dumbfounded. “So, can I interest you?” The man stared at Link, his face frozen in inquiry, his hands continuing to juggle without flaw.
“I... I think I’ll be fine, thanks,” he uttered. The man shrugged and turned towards his brother once more.
“Well, if you ever change your mind, we’re the brothers Barish!” he said excitedly. “You can always count on us!” Link hesitated, unsure of his next move. This is absolutely ridiculous, he thought. But if Matt were the one planning this, maybe they have something to say about these scrolls.
“Say,” he started, “do you know anything about, um... any scrolls?”
“We’re the brothers Barish!” the first man replied once again. “We tried to find work at the traveling circus, but when Ganon’s spell was cast, our ringleader... well, you know how it goes.” Link’s shoulders dropped. He walked away as the first brother continued his boring tirade. As he walked back towards his house, he saw that the kid in the red jumpsuit had come back to the front of the yard. As soon as the kid was spotted, he tripped slightly over his legs and ran to the backyard once again. Link sighed.
“This is gonna be a really long day.”