Young Writers Society

Alex wasn't sure how to answer Andrei's question. The short answer was yes. Once, when they were staying in Spokane, she, Sasha and Helen had smoked much more grass than they should have before a showing of Yellow Submarine and then gone to a carnival in town. The last thing she'd remembered was people starting at them as they shared a stick of cotton candy. They'd ended up in jail that night with no memory of how they'd gotten there.

Jay had to bail them out, and he hadn't been happy about it. Apparently they'd caused quite a scene and upset some parents in the process.

"Once," was all Alex said. As they continued down the hallway, she wondered if there were any other passengers on the ship. There had to be. There was no way a ship this big could be this empty.

The smell of cookies grew stronger, and soon they ended up in a large, gilded hall. There was marble flooring and an elaborate chandelier in the center of it all. It was like something out of the Titanic. Alex remembered going to see a A Night To Remember with Carolyn when her mom was in the hospital and her dad was out of sorts. She hadn't known how bad things really were then. Apparently they'd caused quite a scene and upset some parents in the process.

The cookies came from a set up made to look a sidewalk cafe in Paris. There was an attendant there in a fancy waiter's outfit. He looked like Richard Beymer, who had been Alex's first real crush after she saw him in West Side Story. This was Richard Beymer, wasn't it? It looked just liked him. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't 1961 anymore.

"Excuse me," Alex said.

"Hi," he replied. "You folks want some fresh baked cookies?"

Megara followed the group. Hardly anyone had bothered to introduce themselves, so she didn't have many names to match with the faces around her. She wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Tim was the only one here she knew. On one hand, she had no idea what to expect from these people. They could be dangerous - she almost guaranteed the tall, scarred man could be dangerous if he wanted to be - or completely harmless. What they did and didn't know and what they could and couldn't do was all up in the air. On the other hand, none of them seemed to know her either, meaning she, with her limp and her less-than-impressive stature, was as harmless in their eyes as a girl like her was supposed to be.

She tried her best to assess them anyway as they came up to the counter and the source of the wonderful smell.



Winter less walked than wandered up to the counter and smiled at the man there, "Yes please," she said to his question. She didn't know what fresh baked cookies were, but they smelled delightful. Anything that smelled that good had to be a wonderful thing to have.

Kirux gave a big, earnest nod in agreement. He definitely wanted cookies! He was a little sad that there wasn't any milk being offered, too, but he could always-

An idea came to him.

Tucking Klein underneath his arm, he signed, "Can I have some milk please?"

Even if there wasn't milk out now, maybe the man had some! He looked really fancy. Like a waiter at Winnie's favorite restaurant, but the waiters there never were as fancy as this man.


So that was why the boy (not a man upon closer inspection - he looked too young) hadn't introduced himself so far. Tim had absolutely no idea what was being said, but what was presumably a question made him realize that the boy was probably mute. That was going to be problematic. ASL was something he had never thought of picking up. Unless the boy had another way of communicating, he had no idea how he was going to get anything across.

Including a name.

Which, if he was lucky, might clue him into why there here.

...But cookies did sound nice.

"Can I have some, too?" he asked.

Megara watched the boy. She didn't come across mutes very often, but they were usually quite entertaining to have around. Well, it was more the reaction of those around them that was entertaining. No one liked not knowing what was being said when they could see the words right in front of them. It was like watching people get frustrated a game of charades while she had all the answers before her.

"I'll have some milk as well if it's possible," Megara said, turning her attention to the man behind the counter.



Winter seemed suddenly aware of the others and she turned abruptly to face the very tall one with the scar. She liked him. She didn't know why yet. Maybe it was because Summer liked him? Though she wasn't sure what Summer could have seen or heard that she had not to endear her to the man. Maybe it was just a vibe he gave off. People were like that sometimes. Giving off vibes.

She held out a hand for him to shake if he so pleased, "I'm Winter," she said with a smile.

She then remembered that she was here for cookies. She would get them later. People came before curiosities.

Bo had a lot of questions. Of course he wanted cookies, but he was also distracted, and worried, and trying to process everything that was going on. He watched the cookie guy with mild suspicion, trying not to glare or seem presumptuous. He just... he wasn’t sure the cookie guy was trustworthy, as nice as he seemed. That was for two reasons. One: it seemed like he worked here. Two: he didn’t seem phased to see them, as if he was expecting them even, which meant he probably knew something about what was going on.

Right? He felt like that made sense. He wasn’t an idiot.

Just as he was about to ask the cookie man a question, Winter approached him from the side. He turned to her and his expression softened almost immediately, and he smiled.

“Oh, hey,” he said, shaking her hand firmly. “Andrei, if you uh, didn’t hear already. Just uh - one sec.”

He turned back to the server, waving a hand to try and catch his attention.

“Hey uh, so, none of us can remember how we got here and we don’t even know where we are - besides on a ship, I’m guessing.” He chose to mentally gloss over that fact entirely. The ship thing. “Could you like, explain what’s going on?”

The Richard Beymer looking waiter gave them all a smile that was simultaneously wide and yet blank.

"You're on the midnight voyage," he said in response to Andrei's question. Then, he held out the tray. "Cookies?"

Alex took one without hesitation. It had been ages she'd had a home cooked meal, much less a sweet treat like a chocolate chip cookie. It was one of the most delicious ones she'd ever tasted. And as distracted as she was by that and how handsome the waiter was, there was a part of her that wanted to know too.

"Where are we going? How did we get here?"

"I'm not sure I understand," he said.

Winter tilted her head at that, "The question was rather simple, how can you not understand?" She said this as she took a cookie from the tray.

Megara looked the man over, suddenly incredibly suspicious but hiding it with an expertly crafted mask of absent curiosity as she also took one of the treats. She didn't eat it.

"What does 'The Midnight Voyage' mean, exactly?" she asked. Perhaps it was just her time growing up with her sister, but the possibility that the food here was somehow tainted was at the forefront of her mind. She'd most certainly been drugged to get her here, and she thanked the gods that she'd left Eddie with Marciella in the weeks before this. His ability to withstand toxins like what would have had to have been used to counteract Megara's menagerie of built-up immunities is not something that she wanted to ever have tested.

Kirux eagerly took several of the cookies, paying little mind to how the boy with the long black hair studied the group and the waiter. He just was happy to have cookies! Signing a quick thank you to the waiter, Kirux eagerly chowed down on his mini-feast. Winnie would have said not to eat so many cookies, but Winnie wasn't hear right now.

There were lots of open seats, and Alex drifted to one. The others joined her and they began to sit in silence. The waiter clearly wasn't going to be any help, and the others seemed just as clueless as she was about what exactly was going on.

The Midnight Voyage. It was like that old Mamas and Papas song, the one that she and Michelle would listen to as they got high and told each other their deepest secrets. She'd been all right. It was a shame that she hadn't met them any earlier, hadn't gotten to be a part of the group when things were good. Maybe they could have even become close friends, like the little sister Alex had never had.

Most of all, she missed Jay. It had been ages she'd felt his touch, ages since the people at the court had torn them apart, forbid them from writing or communicating with one another in any way. It wasn't fair. She tried to be friends with the girls, and there were some genuinely good moments too. Sharing chocolate they'd scavenged from dumpsters while they watched reruns of Gilligan's Island at their house in Kansas.

But what she had with Jay didn't compare to anything else, anything any of them thought any of them thought they had with him. They'd all had boyfriends before, known what it was like to be in love with someone else. Even Michelle had a brief flame who she talked about in the camp with fondness.

As for Alex, she'd coasted through life before she'd met Jay, never really feeling anything fully. Then, with him, that all changed. And ever since they'd been torn apart, things had gone back to feeling all the more empty. She wished he were here now. He'd know what to do.

She had no idea what part of the world they were in, and how she'd even gotten to the ocean from landlocked Colorado. From the windows they could see nothing but ocean, so it looked like that question was going to go unanswered for a while.

They all silently finished their cookies.

"I wish my...husband were here with us." The lie came out of her like a lump in her throat. There was a part of her that felt bad deceiving them, but still, it was nice to be perceived as married. "He's a wonderful person."

She was terrified that the others would recognize her face from the news.
Alexandra Altman wasn't married. But Alex could have been. She realized it was a mistake to even give her real name, but there were a lot of Alexes. Maybe they woudn't know.

She realized then she wasn't wearing a ring.

She hadn't thought of that.

Bo was very wary of the cookies, especially when it became apparent that the guy serving them didn't seem to know how to answer their questions. Was the guy even real? Was he a robot, programmed to only answer in a specific way? Was he brainwashed? Was he a projection? Another victim, just playing his part? Maybe all of those options sounded ridiculous, but Bo was far beyond considering anything to be too out-there. He'd already lived through things he thought were only fiction. The line between reality and imaginary was much, much more flexible now.

Bo sighed as he leaned forward with elbows on the table, finally caving and reaching for a cookie. He took it and flipped it over in his hands, inspecting it. Sniffing it. It seemed like a normal cookie. But if it was drugged or poisoned? He might not find out until was too late, and he didn't really want to die here, with strangers, on a ship of all things.

The cookie really smelled good though.

He kept it in his hand as the others ate. He was sitting next to pajama-onesie guy, who seemed more than happy to eat the cookies, and also like he was deaf. He noted in the back of his mind to mention he knew the ASL alphabet, but he didn't know how useful that would be. He remembered it from grade-school, but that was it. He also knew how to sign the word "kidnapped" because he saw it on a crime show once, but he never thought it would come in handy.

But now, he figured it would. They were kidnapped, weren't they?

His thoughts were drawn to Alex when she spoke. His expression softened.

"Ah... I'm sorry he's not here. It seems all of us have been separated from the people we care about. Our friends, family, homes, maybe our worlds even. For all we know we could all be from like, different timelines or alternate dimensions or whatever entirely. I mean, if my previous experience is anything to go by, anyway. I don't know about all of you, but I'm from the age of memes and internet and cellphones with three cameras and touch-screens and stuff."

He stopped for a second, realizing maybe that was a little much to start off with. He also inadvertently completely changed the subject. Oops. He laughed a little, putting his chin on his hand as he looked over at the others.

Tim stared.

He had already suspected that there was more to Andrei than met the eye, but his comment was quickly confirming it. There was nothing to say that Andrei was from Tim's world, but his sudden ramble implied that he had experience with the unnatural.

"I'm also from that time," he said. He tried not to think about Alex's husband, and how thinking of him made Tim think of Lila. He missed her so much right now. He always missed her, but hearing someone else missed their loved one made him-

No.

He had to get himself together. Tim didn't have a Lila. Tim had a Stephanie Brown, who he hadn't even met yet. Tim would be focused on figuring this out, even if this place felt...comforting. Even if this place had a friend in the form of Megara.


Unknowing of Tim's internal dilemma, Kirux was really enjoying himself. The cookies tasted really good, he was on a boat, and everyone seemed really, really nice! He even had Klein, so today was a very good day. He happily munched away on the cookies as he methodically swung his legs back and forth.

It was when he was almost done with his (third? fourth? fifth?) cookie that he realized he had forgotten to ask the question he had wanted to ask all along. He wasn't sure how well everyone knew sign language, but he could figure out something.

He perked up in his seat.

"Have you met R-I-K-U?" he signed to the group. "I'm looking for my heart!"

Alex heard Andrei ask about timelines and dimensions. All stuff she knew little about but she’s read The Time Machine once so she had some idea of how it worked. There was no way all of that was real, was it? That these people were from the future.

“Internet? Cell phones?”

They stared.

“Where I’m from, Richard Nixon is president.”

Megara ignored the talk about time periods and all that, instead paying her attention to the little mute kid. He reminded her of Eddie, in a way. Not in physical appearance or anything, but more his demeanor. The way he acted was youthful, juvenile in the way that Eddie was.

"Riku?" she asked, wondering if she'd pronounced it correctly, "No, I can't say I've seen him."