Young Writers Society

The next morning we hit the road early, not stopping for breakfast. I was yawning while we got ready, having only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked me again.

I stifled a yawn and nodded, embarrassed. Here I was, dragging them back to the city, and I could barely stay awake! As soon as we loaded up the cart and climbed in, I made myself a little bed, and fell asleep, using my bag as a pillow.

I dreamt that I was back home, in our shack by the river. I was caught by surprise at being there, I hadn’t thought about that place in months. Darren was sitting cross-legged in the corner. I didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Have you forgotten me yet?” He asked. I shook my head. “Good.” He said.

“Where are you?” I asked him.

“I’m in the Otherworld, of course.” He replied. “It’s beautiful here.”

I smiled weakly. “That’s good.”

“I’ve come here to tell you something,” he began. “It’s important.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“The reason soul-drag began was because the people who died didn’t want to be left alone. They refused to release the line that connected them to the living. They didn’t realize what they were doing. Over time the soul-string attached to the souls, we can’t release them. But if you plan to follow your idea, you will still need permission. Permission from the soul to ‘release you to carry the burden of life on your own’.”

I nodded again.

“I have to go now,” Darren said. I could see him fading, and his voice sounded fainter.

“No! Please, stay!” I cried.

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “Remember what I said.” He faded completely out, and I was left alone in my house.

Tears I has been holding in flowed out, my body wracking with sobs. Seeing Darren again had reminded me of my grief.

“You’re on the right track, you know.”

I turned around, wiping my eyes. An older woman stood there. She had kind eyes, but her face looked heavy with sadness. “Who are you?” I managed to whisper.

“I’m Martha Dunhill. Barry Dunhill’s mother.” She replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What track am I on?”

She smiled sadly. “About my son. You’re suspicions are right.”

I gasped. “You mean he’s back in the city?”

She nodded. “And Dan Parson did not help him leave. At least, not knowingly.” She sighed. “How old are you, child?”

“Sixteen.” I replied. “I’m sixteen.”

She smiled again. “You remind me of my daughter. She was your age when she passed.” She saw my shocked expression at her memories, and she laughed. “Yes, I remember her. You remember everything in the Otherworld.”

I wondered if Darren remembered our father. I hope he did.

“Wake up child.” Mary Dunhill said, fading away.

“What?” I asked, desperately. I wanted more answers!

“Wake up.” She said again, but this time her voice was Mel’s.

I blinked awake and sat up, rubbing my eyes.

“What happened?” I asked.

Mel leaned back on her knees, looking relived. “You were thrashing around in your sleep. Did you have a nightmare?”

“Something like that.” I replied, sitting up and pushing aside the tarp. “Where are we?”

“We’re about halfway from Stoneford. We’ll be stopping at the Princess Inn again, but Ledwell wants to stop for lunch at a friend’s house soon.”

The view reminded me of the first train ride I had taken. Was that really less than a year ago? So much had changed since then. Darren dying, becoming a Cutter, moving to the city, and most of all the people I’d met along the way. Mr. Hillington, Mr. Sallon, Emily, Mr. Ledwell, Mel, even Mel’s father, Mr. Teller. Not to mention I had now gotten myself tangled up with the Barry Dunhill case, and possibly met his mother in my dreams.

I sighed. Part of me wished I could back to the simple certainty of life before I got the letter that invited me to be a Cutter. I wondered, not for the first time, whether Darren would still be alive if it wasn’t for me. As far as I knew, the plague hadn’t struck the surrounding towns quite as hard as the city, due to the much less dense population. I shook my head.

Thoughts like that couldn’t bring Darren back. Nothing could. Unless… No. I wouldn’t think like that. Just because Darren somehow managed to contact me did not mean that he could be brought back. I tried to push that thought to the back of my mind, but I couldn’t get rid of it completely.

“How much longer until we reach your friend’s house?” I asked Ledwell, trying to distract myself.

“Not much longer,” He replied. “She lives at the end of this lake.” I peered out of the tarp. All I could see was wilderness, the land lacking even fields and meadows.

“She lives out here all on her own?” I asked.

Ledwell chuckled. “She’s a bit of an eccentric. She lived in the city most of her life until Gregory moved out here.”

“Gregory?” Mel asked.

“Gregory Bawn. An anti-social hermit who Mary insists needs a friend.”

The cart began to slow and I could see the end of the lake, a small billow of smoke coming out from the trees.

“Gregory lives over there,” Ledwell said, pointing across the lake. “He says the Traveler’s Road makes to much noise.” He pulled into the small dirt road leading to the smoke. A few minutes later a small house came into view. Ledwell stopped the cart, and I jumped out, followed by Mel.

“Woof!” A big golden retriever bounded across the yard towards me, almost bowling me over.

Mel laughed as I regained my footing and tentatively patted it on the head as it licked my hand enthusiastically.

“Tesla!” A middle-aged woman stood on the porch of her house, clapping her hands and whistling. “Come here, Tesla, leave the poor girl alone!” She called to the dog.

“Hello, Mary!” Ledwell said, not sounding particularly enthusiastic.

“Jonathon!” Mary ran down the steps and embraced him. Mr. Ledwell gingerly returned the gesture. “Come in, come in!” She said, ushering us into the house and tucking loose pieces of gray hair from her bun behind her ears. The dog, Tesla, followed us in.

“I’ll put some tea on!” Mary announced, closing the door and bustling around the small kitchen. She wiped the front of her dress, trying to wipe of nonexistent pieces of dirt. “I see you’ve already met Tesla,” she said, filling the kettle. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly.”

A cat bounded onto Mel’s lap, and she flinched as it dug its claws into her lap.

“Darling,” Mary said, a scolding look on her face, which looked ridiculous on her gentle features. “Forgive Darling. She’s in a dreadful state of excitement!” She poured the boiling kettle into a teapot and carried it over, dropping it on the table softly.

“Why is she so excited?” I asked, confusion written plainly on my face.

I glanced from Mr. Ledwell to Mary, the former rolling his eyes and the latter looking delighted. “She’s engaged!” Mary announced happily.

“Engaged?” I questioned.

“She’s to be married to Gregory’s cat Button soon! Wouldn’t she look just wonderful in white?” The cat screeched in protest as Mary plucked it up from Mel’s lap and stroked its head adoringly.

I looked at Mel and snickered, my hands fidgeting in my lap. “I’ve had a lovely time,” I began, “But why are we stopping here?” Mr. Ledwell grabbed the teapot and poured me a cup.

“We’re having lunch. I’m sick of being on the road.” Noting my expression he added, “I know you want to reach the city as quickly as possible, but the horse needs a break anyway.” He glanced up at Mary. “Do you have anything for us to eat?” He asked.

She nodded eagerly. “I just made a batch of scones!” She replied, brining over a full plate. As much as I wished we were still traveling, the scones smelled heavenly, and I eventually gave in.

“That’s not the only reason you’re hear, is it.” Said Mary, sitting down across from us and looking at Mr. Ledwell sternly. “You must stop this lying habit you have. The council doesn’t approve!”

Mr. Ledwell sighed. “Enough with your dramatics, Mary! I have done my work for our civilization, and if the Council doesn’t approve then they can send me to hell for all I care.”

“Forgive Jonathon. He doesn’t realize what a fool he is!” Though she was speaking to Mel and I, Mary directed the last words at Mr. Ledwell.

“You are right though,” Mr. Ledwell said. “We came here for another reason.” He quickly explained the situation, Mary listening closely.

“And you want me to whisper in my brother’s ear, I suppose?” She asked.

“Your brother?” Mel asked.

“Dear old Rich! Mr. Sallon to you.”

I gasped. “Mr. Sallon is your brother!”

“Strange, isn’t it.” She replied, smiling. “Richard, the head Cutter! And I thought he would never account to much!”

She spoke fondly of him, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Mary scribbled out a note and handed it to Mr. Ledwell.

“This is the best I can do. Prepare for him not to listen to me though.” Mary said.

“Thank you.” Mr. Ledwell replied. “I appreciate your help!” We said our goodbyes, wished Darling good luck for her upcoming wedding, and patted Tesla on the head. Before I knew it we were back on the road again.

“We’ll spend the night at the Princess Inn.” Ledwell began as the horse started trotting along the road again. “We can spend the night in Artona and catch the train the next morning. We’ll be in the city by tomorrow afternoon!”

I sat in silence, as Mr. Ledwell chatted with Mel. I thought about all the people who had helped me throughout my journey. So many people who believed in what I was doing, and hoped that if it worked with Darren it would work on their loved ones.

From Mr. Hillington, to Mr. Salon, to Mr. Ledwell, to Mary, ane to most of all Mel, whom I had just met, I wouldn’t be here without their help. Was this little promise I made to my dying brother really this important? Did this have anything to do with Darren and I at all?

Either way, I was glad we were finally getting somewhere. I was headed back to the city with a plan, and lots of help. It couldn’t fail now, when I had come so far.