Thursday, May 2, 2024
Sweet FootJourneys

Sweet FootJourneys

Dulcet Peregrinations

Althea and the LibraryWritings

Pintor’s World

“Althea! I didn’t think I’d see you until the Holidays! How did you find your way here?”

Our eyes met and I knew that for my brother, only a matter of months had passed and for me, it had been an entire lifetime. He could see it, too, but it didn’t surprise him. He recognized it for what it was, which meant his experience was likely similar to mine. It explained why he seemed so very different when he came home after his first post. 

“Mother and Father are well?” I ventured.

“I assume so. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I was told that ten years had passed at home, but this is clearly not the case.”

“Ah, time. It’s meaningless in the Library. Don’t pay attention to it. What happens here doesn’t affect what happens at home.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

We had a lot to talk about and I realized Anches was still waiting out in the hall.

“I have a friend with me. His appearance may be alarming to you, but he is safe. Anches, come in!”

Anches stepped inside. My brother didn’t flinch at the whiteness of Anches, but his stare would have made a lily wither. 

“Anches, this is my brother, Pintor.”

“Good to meet you,” Anches said. Pintor continued staring. Was it hatred? Was it disbelief? Was it fear? No, it was something else that I didn’t know.

“May we sit down with you?” I asked.

My brother nodded and we brought chairs around the desk where he was working with colored glass. He was not far into his project, but there appeared to be a white bird in its sky.

“I didn’t know you made colored glass stories,” I said.

He looked at me, his eyes still pinched, and said, “So, what’s going on?”

“We’re trying to find a way out of the Library.”

“Well, just ask Guardian.”

“You trust him?”

“I do.”

“And why?”

“He’s my teacher and mentor and now my employer. There hasn’t been a time that he hasn’t looked out for me or a situation he hasn’t helped me with. Why don’t you trust him?”

“There’s been a lot of secrecy, don’t you think? From the beginning, you didn’t tell me about the Library and what would happen here.”

“I didn’t tell you because it’s important to experience it yourself, to have your own journey. Everyone has a different journey at the Library. Everyone is assigned to a different world.”

“So, this colored glass you’re making, will it take you to the world you’ve been assigned to?”

“It could. That’s my choice.”

I ran my fingers along the black lines of my brother’s story, realizing that I missed the feeling of creating in colored glass.

“How many trips have you made to this world?”

“Twelve.”

“And you’ve had a lifetime there each trip?”

“No, not each one. I did spend a lifetime there, once, but it was the third trip and I chose to do it. I knew how to get back, but I fell in love and had a family and wanted to stay. It’s not an ideal world. The humans living there fled their home world when it became too dangerous , and the planet they chose wasn’t one they could live on without using artificial means. So, no outdoors and fresh air. They made green areas with trees and birds and ponds, but it was sort of like living in a bubble. And when my wife and children were gone, I decided to build my way back.”

“What is your world called?”

“Mars.”

“Ah, I know that world. My world is called Earth. They’re planets in the same solar system and Earth is where humans come from.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Where do they come from?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not Earth.”

We looked at each other without speaking. It was strange to think that we’d both had families and lived lifetimes and not met each other’s spouses and children. I imagined what it might have been like for our children to play together.

“So, every time you build a colored glass scene, you go to Mars? You don’t go any other places?”

“No. Just Mars. It’s the same for everyone in the Library. There is the one world you go to.”

“Do some go to the same world as each other?”

“That I don’t know. So far, I’m not aware of anyone who has gone to the same world as someone else.”

“Do you know why we’re going to these worlds?”

Pintor sighed. “Guardian met with me after my fourth time in Mars and gave me a job. There were items I was to bring back to the Library and study. And after the eighth time, I was given the additional task of detailing the history of Mars in glass for the Library. This glass I’m working on now is part of the history. I’m not planning to use it to go there.”

“A white bird? On Mars?”

“It’s a ship that looks very much like a bird, Althea. It’s a ship I flew for – for years.”

There was pain in his voice. Flying a ship meant something very important to my brother and he had a story to tell about what happened to his ship. Maybe he would tell it in the colored glass.

“And so,” he continued, “why do you want to leave before the Holidays?”

“My trip to the Library was ambushed and I had to hide in the forest and arrive on my own. Guardian told me I was ten years too late, but gave me a room and some colored glass for my first journey, which was for a lifetime because no one told me how to get back. Remembering that ambush while I was on Earth, I realized that the tools I needed to survive in the forest were provided to me by the guide bringing me to the Library, so it was likely that the ambush was not accidental, but planned, and that everything I experienced had been staged. I’ve been manipulated from the start and I don’t like it.”

“Hmmm,” Pintor murmured thoughtfully. “That’s an unusual story. How did you meet this – uh – Glowing One?”

“When I first arrived, Guardian was walking too quickly and I got lost. Oh, that was intentional, too, wasn’t it? Guardian wanted me to meet you, Anches. He said that the Glowing Ones didn’t really exist. That there was some kind of wrong done and that he hoped I might be able to make it right.”

“Ah, it sounds like you’ve got a much more important task ahead of you than I do.”

“I don’t like being manipulated. I like straight answers.”

“Unfortunately, it’s usually not that simple. Sometimes the answers have to reveal themselves.”

“You sound like Guardian.”

“I should. He’s my mentor.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I wondered about the world Anches went to with the fish and the rabbit-like creatures with human faces who lived in hives. Did he say the sky was violet?

“I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Look, going home right now isn’t going to give you any answers. You’re better off figuring things out here.”

“And how is that? Why can’t I go home and find out about this world that other people call Stroma where we’re taught to fear the Glowing Ones. Who is that woman who spoke at our ceremonies, the Protectress? What does she know about Stroma and our origins? Did we get transplanted from Earth? And if so, where are we in the universe? Our stars are certainly different than Earth. What planets are near us? What kind of system are we in? Can we get to Earth from here? I don’t want to get buried in this imaginary library. I want to fill my lungs full of real air and know where I actually am in the universe. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

Anches startled us by suddenly speaking.

“Have you thought that in order to find the answers to your questions you’ll need to find Stroma from Earth?”

No, I hadn’t.

“But is that even possible? What if the worlds are too far away?”

“How did humans get here, then? It must be possible. Go back to Earth. Study the Universe. Sounds like they’re experts. Look for Stroma.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to find out where my home fit into the universe from here, not from there. 

“Help me out then. Both of you. What were we taught about this world, the one we come from? Here.”

Neither of them spoke.

“The stars? The suns? Any stories? On Earth, the people make up stories about the groups of stars, as if they are animals or gods in the sky.”

And still, neither of them spoke.

Pintor looked at Anches and he shook his head.

“Althea, I don’t think we have any of those stories. We don’t look to the sky. I’ve never heard of anyone flying in space the way I’ve gotten to do from Mars.”

“Have you flown to any other planets, Pintor?”

“Yes, well, moons mostly. I did fly to Jupiter and its moons.”

“Did you fly to Earth?”

“No. Earth is not a place to go to in my time.”

“When you go to Mars, do you always go to the same time period?”

“Hmmm, that’s a good question. I think so. Except, one of the trips I made, Mars was completely uninhabited. There was just rocks and dust, so I didn’t stay long. I don’t know if it was before or after the people I’ve gotten to know settled there, but it’s likely it was a different time period. So, I guess the answer is yes.”

“I wonder if there is a way to control the time period you arrive somehow with the colored glass. There must be a way. Yes. I think the answer is in the details. And wait, Pintor, do the people remember you from one visit to the next?”

Suddenly, the door opened and Guardian tendrilled in.

“Ah, there you are. I see that you are ready to create with colored glass again.”

Next: Vincente

This is the tenth part in a series of stories. Following are the previous installments starting with the first:
1. The Library
2. Listen, Move, Hide, Repeat
3. A Necessary State of Alarm
4. Anches
5. A Question in Colored Glass
6. How a Lifetime Friendship Began
7. In the World I Created
8. To Make Things Right Again
9. Escape from the Library