The Blackest Winter
Part 2
“The comfort will never be comfortable for those who seek what is not on the market. A systematic questioning of the idea of happiness.”
A growing noise from the darkness had surfaced in rhythmic tones. “Beep... beep... beep... beep...” it echoed between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness.
He opened his eyes slowly and found himself in a warm environment, blanketed and protected. It was dark, but dots of light blinked and flickered around him. The silent whir of interesting machines–cloaked in the darkness of a gray room–filled his ears and made him breath steadily. His mind began to remember what had happened to him last, talking to the one who called himself, ‘Satan’. He had fallen into a deep sleep, and that was all he could remember.
He rose up gently from the bed he found himself in. He felt weak and weary as his arms trembled to sit himself upright. He looked over the room, still dazed and disoriented a bit. He noticed a curtain on the far wall, shrouding the light away. He decided to visit the window and see what was outside.
Uncovering himself, he noticed he was wearing a mint lavender gown with clear tubes strapped to his inner arms and chest. He pulled one of his hands upward and noticed a strange mechanism clamped to his index finger, connecting him to an odd machine with odd fluid dripping as monotonously as the ‘beeping’ machine. As he began to peel them off one by one, the machines around him began to flicker more rapidly and their noises grew in higher pitches. When his feet found their way to the cold floor, he felt something even more odd wrapped around his head. He felt around his skull and noticed that it was swathed heavily in gauze. Foolishly, he ignored it and proceeded to wobble across the floor to his intended goal. He shambled over and feebly held to the walls by the veiled window, ignoring the consistently loud beeping coming from the machines he escaped from.
He pulled back the curtains and looked out into the night. He was met with an incredible sight as he shuddered and stepped back from the window, unable to believe what he was witnessing. He began sweating; his heart raced and mind wheeled rapidly, trying to make sense of the unrealistic environment sprawled out before him. The light from the outside bathed him in an orange and yellow hue. No matter how much he wanted to look away, he couldn’t bare to. A door behind him burst open, but he paid no attention to the intruders. The scramble of feet quickly approached from behind him as the beings tried to pull him away from the window. His head grew faint again as he blacked out once more.
He awoke quite suddenly, and this time it was morning. He was once again attached to his bed by multiple censors and wires. He knew for certain he was in a hospital–but he questioned himself to know why he was here of all places. He spun his head around and noticed the curtains on the window had been pulled back, revealing a golden stream of crisp, morning light. It flooded over him as he squinted his eyes and looked out over the bright landscape. He drew in a sudden breath and knew what he saw last night was true.
“I’m back...” he whispered to himself, looking over his fingers and hands. He turned back towards the window and restated louder, “I’m... here again...” He noticed a call button next to his bed and pushed it to ring in a nurse. After a long moment, a young nurse and an older doctor came in to greet him. The large doctor approached with joy in his stride. He was an older man, in his late fifties Zack assumed. Black, thin hair and a stubby gray beard adorned his face as he bore a smile from cheek to cheek.
“Ah yes! Mister Zachary,” he said loudly and full of vigor, “finally awake I see!” He chortled heavily, “I heard you were out walking around last night–which is quite an astounding feat from what you’ve been through.” Zachary had a question for him, but couldn’t quite get over the fact that two humans were standing in front of him. He hadn’t seen an actual human in six years and it was very difficult to take in their sight or even look them in the eyes.
Finally Zack pushed out, “I have a question for you, doctor...”
He looked over his patient’s paper work while responding, “Doctor Stivers! Well fire away, lad.”
“Where am I?”
Doctor Stivers stopped and looked down at him. He rose an eyebrow and answered, “The hospital... Carolinas Medical Center to be precise...”
Zack pressed him again, “And... what is today’s date?”
“The thirteenth of Friday, December, two thousand-twelve...” He looked over at the nurse and asked her, “Has he not been awake this entire time? How long has he been out?”
She thought and replied exactly, “Three days since his incident.” The friendly doctor turned back and skimmed through the patient’s papers once more, mouthing the words he read mentally. He glanced every so often down at the confused Zachary and he noticed the doctor’s rising concern in his eyes.
“My word,” he breathed out, handing the clipboard he read from back to his assistant, “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Wait a minute–of course not! You can’t remember!” His glad expression soon turned serious as he sat himself at the edge of Zachary’s bed. Zack stiffened up, awaiting the truth he so long desired.
Doctor Stivers spoke more somberly, trying to explain the events that occurred in the simplest terms, “You tried to kill yourself, that’s what the police told us. But strangely, you dropped the gun and it discharged as it hit the floor, grazing the back of your skull. Your neighbors heard the gun shot and called the police. You were rushed to the closest place they could treat you, here, and we did the best we could to save you. Basically, it came down to either a life or death matter, whether your brain could continue to function properly or not after dislodging the bullet and repairing the brain tissue. After a day of putting you in critical care, we were beginning to lose hope. By all cases, even if you recovered, you would have been paralyzed or enter into a persistent vegetative state.”
He gestured towards Zack and expressed, “But here you are. Walking around at night and functioning like a normal human being.” He leaned closer and lightly spoke, “If I were a religious man–and I’m not–I would say that what you experienced was nothing short of a miracle. An act of God to say the least.”
The pieces started to form in Zachary’s head, an unbarring truth that–to him–was hard to swallow. He was just beginning to realize the seriousness of what had occurred, of what fictitious events he had been living out, though he couldn’t entirely grasp it. His heart rate began to sky rocket and the doctor took note of it on the monitor next to him.
He prompted Zachary, “What’s happening, Zachary? What’s going on?”
Zack placed his hands on the side of his head and began to tear up, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!”
“Please, Zachary, we can help! Just tell us what’s wrong!”
He swiftly grabbed the doctor by the sides of his arms and yelled, “This has to be a dream! This has to be!”
Doctor Stivers forced out a laugh, “But sir, you’re alive! You should be tha–”
“I can’t be on Earth! I left Earth six years ago!” The doctor was speechless as Zack went on, covering his face with his hands and sobbing, “Those years I spent in Equestria, it was just a dream! An illusion! My friends... Valiant, Celestia, Pinkie! All of them were nothing more than figments of my subconscious!” The concerned doctor turned slowly towards the quiet nurse, both were entirely dumbfounded by Zachary’s display and response.
Doctor Stivers–with caution–stated, “Me and nurse Chelsea will leave you be for a while. If you need us, or if there is an emergency, call us on the buzzer, okay?” Zack withdrew his red, wet face from his hands and nodded.
Before the doctor could leave, Zachary called out, “Wait!” He stopped and spun around.
“Before you leave,” Zachary went on with hesitance in his dry tone, “can I ask you one last thing?”
“By all means, Mr. Zachary.”
“You think.. I’m psychotic, don’t you? I tried to kill myself and now I’m talking as if I’m mad...” The doctor tilted his head gave a faint smile.
“I think...” he started, sitting himself back down and carefully choosing his next words. He repeated slower, “I think as humans, we tend to lose sight of what really matters. Everyone does–from the wisest men to the dumbest fools. I feel as if you’ve overcome a great hurtle in your life, and now you are beginning your ascension to the peak of your happiness. To seek our reward, we must endure its pain. Life is like this.”
He digressed, “Here at Carolinas Medical Center, patients who deal with psychological issues or ones who have unsuccessfully attempted suicide must take mandatory thirty-day counseling. You must meet three times a week, and the hours can be worked around your personal schedule. It’s entirely free, but if you don’t show up, you will have to pay a fee.” He fingered his front pocket and grabbed a thin, white business card. The doctor then gently slipped it on the table next to Zack, making sure it was right-side up.
He placed his hand on Zachary’s shoulder and smiled, “Once you’re out of our care–which I wouldn’t believe to be much longer since you seem fit as a fiddle–you’ll start the counseling process. Hang in there, Zachary. You’re a good person and a smart man. I know you’ll come out of this okay.”
Zachary waited an extra day in the hospital where other doctors gave him certain tests to evaluate his condition. In the end, they concluded that the damage to his occipital lobe, the visual processing center in the back of the brain, had no effect on his vision; however they deemed that somehow his amygdala, the area of the brain which controls emotions, sleeping and dreaming, was highly dysfunctional and it had been before he damaged himself. Such an internal event they presumed had created greater fluctuating spasms in that region; they highly recommended him to return for further treatments. Besides the strange events he believed had happened in ‘Equestria’ and his memory loss, he was practically fine and ready to leave.
A few hours before he was omitted back into the world, a nurse had stopped by to tell Zack he had a visitor coming soon. He asked who it might be, but the nurse never received a name during the short phone call she had with the anonymous individual. Zack was worried, not because of the stranger coming to see him, but still of his circumstance. He just couldn’t fathom it, that only in three days, he had dreamed for what felt like six years. It all had felt so real, and he had never had a dream so tangible or long in his life that he couldn’t come to terms with what he was now experiencing. He had given up so willingly that he had left Earth to be in this magical make-believe place. He felt so foolish to have believed in such nonsense, never questioning or becoming lucid in his fantasy construct.
"Is this all a dream too," he said mentally, continually probing existential theories and questions regarding his departure. It was all he could think about, it was all he could do. Spacing out towards the far wall, he was lost in thoughts that questioned his own being, this reality, and where to go from here. He had lost track of time once more as the door opened slowly and he looked over to see who had entered. His heart stopped and his eyes widened at the sight of his visitor. Zack couldn’t express himself and was at a total loss of words. He was speechless for a brief and breathless moment that seemed to have lasted far longer than it truly was.
“C-... C-... Caroline,” he finally emitted while his mouth turned upright into a bright smile. A short, young lady entered the room, returning his smile with her own. She was dressed in heavy, stylish Winter clothing and jeans that lined her form. Her red, long curls were pushed up into her wool cap as she approached him, taking off her slim gloves. She sat down on a stool beside his bed and placed her chilled hand on the side of his warm face.
Her light blue eyes were still as dazzling to him than the clearest of rivers, yet contrasted beautifully with her auburn locks and freckled cheeks. The disturbing thoughts he had constantly been thinking about had seemingly melted away, replaced by silent admiration for his lover he had nearly forgotten about. It had been so long to time since he last saw her, beyond the six years he was (supposedly) in Equestria. Eight in all–eight long years and still she looked the same.
He slowly pulled his arm up beside her and felt her face as well, saying, “It feels like... it feels like it’s been so long... Oh I wish I could tell you what I’ve been through, I truly do. You’d never believe me though.”
“I know everything. They, the doctors, they said,” Caroline stopped and began tearing up. She recovered and faltered out, “They said you tried to kill yourself.” She reached over and held his hand, asking despairingly, “Why? Why would you do something so stupid and reckless?” Zachary’s hand slipped from her grip and onto his chest.
He sighed, “I was scared, I’m a coward. I didn’t feel like... like I had any purpose left.” The red head nodded in disapproval, keeping her eyes locked on the emotionless Zachary.
“How could you say that? You have a family that loves you!”
1“May I remind you that my family has abandoned me. My mother is long gone, my father left me, never to return, and Jason... well God knows where that asshole went off to.” He slouched back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Zack quickly changed the subject as he sprang back up and said, “But I have to tell you this dream I had! It was incredible–it seemed to have lasted years and it was about the craziest things. I could probably write a book about it! Or better yet, make a television s–”
“Zack,” she calmly interrupted. He silenced himself as she continued, “I don’t have a lot of time... I need to go soon...”
Zack half smiled and nodded, “Of course! You were always busy when we were dating, I should have expected that. B-but maybe sometime I can go out for lunch or something? We could catch up! I would love that–wouldn’t you?”
She looked away and admitted, “I don’t think that would be the best idea...”
“...Why is that, Caroline?”
She turned back and justified her statement, “Because, Zack, you left me. I tried to call you, to make contact with you, but you ignored me. Besides, I’m seeing someone else. I only wanted to come because... because I still care for you, but not like how we were before.” She stood up and concluded, “I’m sorry, but we all have to move on. I did, so can you.”
Caroline wiped the tears from her eyes and turned towards the door. Zack reached out for her, but his pitiful attempt to stop her was fruitless. He wanted to call out to Caroline, and yet at the same time he wanted to remain silent and to think about her words. He rested at a strange conundrum, an invisible crossroads where he could race out of bed and stop her from leaving or let her leave in peace. He had longed so often after her, and they had been friends and partners since elementary school. She had always been his girl, and he had always been her boy. He couldn’t even remember why he stopped talking to her, but he knew for certain it wasn’t because he was cheating on her. The choice had been made however, and the pieces had been situated on the board long ago. He wasn’t quite sure if he could do anything at all at this point.
Before he realized it, she had left his presence in a hasty shuffle of pity and loss. Zack could feel the rising emotions stir within him, his past actions were soon catching up to him. He slumped back into his bed and slowly placed his hands over his head, digging his palms into his eye sockets. He had the girl of his dreams, and even when he had nothing, she was still his; but now he truly had nothing–no one to lean on, no one to embrace.
It all unquestionably became clear to him as he mewled in a fit of blurring tears and breathless cries. He once had a whole new life, new friends, new hopes and new dreams–and even if they were never real, he still felt like he had lost so much. Now that Caroline had deserted him, she had become a quick flicker of a final flame that once burned in his heart. He had no hope, he had no desire, he had no reason to continue as he mourned on into the day and into the following night. How high he had risen was no where near as how far he had fallen.
“I’m glad you were able to see me on such short notice.”
“Well I’m happy to be of service, Zachary. It is my job and I do find enjoyment in helping others overcome their obstacles in life.”
Zack was sprawled out on a black leather chaise couch in a room colored like warm apple cider. The walls were adorned with simple paintings of flowers and landscapes, exhibiting surreal Spring time arrangements with blue skies and vibrant suns. Doctrines, diplomas and creeds lined the far wall, shielded by glass and framed in a light-colored mahogany casing. Sitting across from Zachary was an average sized man, holding an average sized notepad and pen, ready to scribble down whatever he deemed fit for scribbling.
The other man had rusty, blonde hair that curled loosely atop his scalp, and across his jaw line was a thin layer of stubble of the same color. His hazy blue eyes looked over towards Zachary behind a pair of oblong, tan-rimmed glasses. He wore a casual, white dress shirt and ocean blue tie that matched his iris’. He also adorned a thin, brown belt that held up his warmer-colored dress pants, and below he sported well-fitting and well-matching penny loafers. He looked and acted as official as he dressed, yet was calm and open in his tone and physical behavior.
When Zack was omitted from Carolina Medical Center, he had called the number on the card he was given by Doctor Stivers immediately. The man on the other end of the line was surprisingly happy to see him in that day and Zack was quite thankful. He made his way over to his dimly-lit apartment, changed clothes, and caught a bus over to the outskirts of Charlotte where the shrink’s home was located. Zack–who was dressed in dark jeans and a short-sleeve band t-shirt–turned his head over to meet eyes with the patient psychiatrist.
Zack thought for a moment and asked, “So how is this suppose to work? This is my first time doing something like this.”
The well dressed man answered quite specifically, “We can start anywhere you like. If you want to talk about something, I’m all ears and would love to hear your input if you are willing to hear mine. Or, I could ask you some questions and we can go off from there. Whichever you prefer.”
Zack looked down at himself and breathed, “Okay, Doctor...”
“Oh, you don’t need to call me that if you don’t like. You can call me Jonathan, or Mr. Horton, or Jonathan Horton, or whatever you feel like calling me.” He leaned over a little and clarified with a smile, “I don’t want you to think of me as a doctor or some one above you in authority–I want you to think of me as a friend. Whatever we talk about is completely confidential. By law, I cannot even tell my wife what you or any of my clients discuss here.”
Jonathan crossed his leg over the other, tapped the top of his crimson, ball-point pen and lightly inclined, “If you could tell me about your circumstances, that would be a good start. Now the hospital told me a little about your incident, about how you tried to kill yourself, but they also told about a few odd things you said. Care to enlighten me a little about them?”
Zack looked over and rose his eyebrow in confusion, “Wouldn’t you rather know why I tried to kill myself then a dream I had while unconscious for three days?”
Jonathan explained his reasonings precisely, “I feel that by talking about what occurred in your dream, it could perhaps give better meaning as to why you tried to... end your life.”
“Right...” Zack swallowed uneasily and loosened up his body, seemingly sinking further into the comfy lounge chair. He closed his eyes and tried to unwillingly talk himself out of telling Dr. Horton the twisted, strange fantasy his mind had concocted. He sighed heavily and turned to look back at his new friend.
“You won’t believe me. You’ll think that I made this stuff up, which I’m about to tell you. So–believe it or not–this dream lasted six years...and that world felt as real as this one I’m in now. I’m very skeptical on what to exactly believe anymore, and I’m even more skeptical to tell you everything.” Jonathan leaned forward and scratched the underside of his chin. He was very intrigued, but inly doubtful that Zack would be telling him the truth. Zack was honest however, and he respected that honest in knowing that if he told him, he wouldn’t believe. So he decided to hear him out fully, to not judge until Zack had fully explained himself.
“Well Zachary,” Jonathan perked up, “let’s hear it. How long do you think it will take for you to tell me all of this?”
He faintly smiled and estimated, “An hour or two?”
Jonathan smiled in return, “Well, we’ll see how far we get today.”
When Zack told Jonathan his story would be a few hours, he wasn’t kidding, and Jonathan was flabbergasted at how detailed he was in describing his dream. As if Zack was reciting an entire book by memory, he expounded on places, creatures and events to the utmost technicality. Zack began when he arrived in Equestria, to finding Pinkie Pie, to ending up in Ponyville and eventually making his way to Canterlot to meet the Princess. He kept going, describing being attacked by the thug pony in the middle of Canterlot by the Fountain of Friendship, to climbing Dragon Peak to meet Om, the King of the Spirits, and how Om told him of the beginning of the universe.
From the Appleloosa hostage situation and battle, to the Mirror of Death and Starswirl the Bearded’s adventure to Firelight Woods and finding the legendary blade, the Prevailer. He went into detail about the airship quest to sign a new peace treaty between the griffons of Gryphus and the equines of Equestria. Zack described how he traveled through the Icicle Mountains after a roc attack from the airship where he fell from, and subsequently killing the lord of the rocs, Sheol. He told Jonathan how he was captured, learned the truth about the Afflicter and escaped while riding the mythological thunder bird he had later kept as a pet. Finally, he went on to talk about the last, uneventful five years of being a blacksmith in Ponyville, and how recently he met with Satan in the Everfree Forest that caused him to black out and wake up in Carolinas Medical Center. Jonathan had extended their session just to hear the end of the incredible story Zack had narrated. Jonathan was so entranced by his story telling that before he had realized it, the two had been in session for three hours straight.
“So, that’s basically everything. I forgot to mention Valiant’s back story and how he uprooted and exposed the Cult of Discord, but I guess that’s unimportant.” Dr. Horton removed his glasses and set aside his notebook, now filled with pages on Zachary’s recited epic. He wiped the sweat from the brim of his glasses clean and snuggly placed them back on his nose. His hand was cramped from writing so much and he had to rest for a moment.
“My God, Zachary,” he emitted in a huff, chuckling as he went on, “that was fantastic. Without I doubt, I believe you one-hundred percent.” Zack wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but he took it still as a satisfying compliment.
“Out of all of my cases and clients, from the silliest, stupidest stories that they have told me about drug trips and meaningless dreams, yours–by far–trumps them all. If you wrote half of this stuff down you just said to me, you could write a beautiful, colorful book. Heck, I wrote most of it down as I can, I’ll let you barrow these notes if you want!”
Zack went back to one of Jonathan’s points and supposed in a dry tone, “You don’t think people will believe me or read something like that because of the stupid places and, well, ponies in general?”
Jonathan laughed, “Of course not! People will read anything as long as its epic and as eventful as your tale!" He laughed to himself as he sat up from his chair. He checked his watch and concluded, “Well, you seem to have killed three hours when our session was only suppose to last one. For the heck of it, I’ll put down you came in for a week’s worth of time, you don’t have come back till next Friday.” Zack pivoted around in the chaise chair and got up on his feet. He stretched and stuck out a hand as he towered over the five-foot eight Ph.D.
“That was a good session...” Zack assessed. “Even though I didn’t talk about my feelings or anything like that, I feel good.”
“I’m glad to hear it!” They released their grip as Zack put his hand behind his head while looking elsewhere in the room.
He hesitantly asked, “I guess I better leave then, huh?” As Zack turned, Jonathan reached out his hand one more time and placed it on Zack’s shoulder.
“Listen,” he began as Zack turned around, “I think perhaps tonight, instead of isolating yourself, which most people of your type do, I think you should be a little more sociable. Call up some buddies and go out for a beer or something.”
“Thanks, but I don’t have any friends here in Charlotte.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t make some tonight.”
The inner city buildings at night showered the streets in a vivid radiance of Christmas colors. The towers loomed overhead as Zack found himself looking up at them more than watching where he was suppose to go. He hadn’t forgotten about this life and society, and had also failed to recall basic principles in the city; such as when to cross at cross walks and to watch out for moving cars. It was too much sometimes to take in, all of the other, seemingly dead-eyed, humans moving around him, the foreign noise pollution and blaring, flashing lights about him. Even though he had to stop and admire the sights that were once nostalgic, he couldn’t stop for long or the barring cold might make him sick.
Zack was on his way to a place he knew about once, but never had been in. It was a social place from what he remembered, and he had been invited to it on multiple occasions by others, though had declined all of the requests. Tonight however, he would change that, he would meet someone new and become friends with them. He tucked his brown hair under his navy beanie tighter, making sure he was well insulated after the frigid air began to affect him more. Under the hat he still had a small bandage where he had shot himself, and he made sure not to take it off even when he reached his destination.
He turned the corner into a less populated street, which housed multiple, small apartment buildings. He followed a new, thumping noise which he figured was originating from the place he was heading towards. He turned once again between two apartment complexes and down a flight of dingy, dark stairs. He followed down a narrow pathway lit by red, icicle Christmas lights that hung from the edges. He snaked around a few bends, passed by a couple making out in the passageway, and finally he approached the entrance to the hideaway. Before him stood a large, masculine bouncer, blocking the way to large, heavy double doors. The music he had heard from the street was much louder now, but still muffled away behind the bouncer. Above the doors flashed a neon sign that read, ‘Club 7o4’.
Zack approached the slightly smaller, yet overly-threatening bouncer and gave him his ID. The hulking guard narrowed his eyes and looked at it closely. He then made eye contact with Zack and nodded in approval while opening the door for him. He walked inside and was greeted to blaring electronic music, flashing beams of multi-colored light, and a thin layer of fog and cigarette smoke. Heavy dubstep boomed from inside the wild pit he had ambled into while lasers and flashing strobes shimmered and lit the edges of the room. The center of the large basement featured a fully packed dance floor of indistinguishable, sweaty people while in the back were massive speakers and an intricate computer set where the hooded DJ worked tirelessly on his MIDI keyboard, laptop, table top and control deck.
Zack didn’t want to dance however, instead, he made his way over to a overly lit bar. He maneuvered his way around groups of friends and scantly dressed women to a free stool he had spotted from afar. He slipped into the empty seat and was greeted by a black, female bartender. She was dainty, but sporting multiple, criss-crossing tattoos that weaved over her arms and lower neck.
“What up,” she bluntly asked, ready to get Zack’s order.
He leaned over and tried to loudly speak over the blasting music, “What’s on draft?” As the woman spoke out, listing off different names of common alcoholic beverages, Zack spoke out when she named off one he knew he enjoyed. “I’ll take a shock top. Bottle’s fine.” She nodded, then proceeded to get what he ordered and snapped off the cap.
She handed it to him and Zack thanked her as he took a swig of the wheat ale. He pivoted in his seat to take in the lights, music and smell of the underground club. The lasers and lights, it all dazzled Zack and in an enchanting, yet haunting sense that sent goosebumps down his spine. Somewhat taken back by it all, he thought it was quite magical in a strange sense; he thought that if anything like this was in Equestria, it would have had to have been created by an impressive feat of magic.
He turned back slightly to look down the row of chairs, which seemed to have been emptied when he wasn’t looking. Down several stools away was a thin and lonely figure, slumping slightly over the bar’s table with a beer in hand. He couldn’t quite make out who it was or what they looked like, but through a strange burst of confidence in energy, he got up from his seat and began to walk towards it. He didn’t quite know what came over him, and at any other time he would have minded his own business, but something inside of him begged him to try and be overly sociable. He thought that maybe it was because of what Dr. Horton asked him, he thought that maybe also it was because he had nothing to lose–either way, he found a seat next to the person and sat himself down, eager to meet him or her.
He shouted over the wobbling bass to gain the person’s attention, “Hey! How’s your night going?”
The flashing red and silver lights from above sailed over the two and he caught a few glimpses of what the person looked like. It was a skinny, small and petite girl–athletic in appearance and having little to no curve in her form. She turned and looked over at him, her eyes gleaming like rubies in the bright-red tint of light. Her soft features were met with a narrow jaw, while her eyes matched the color of her thin layer of cherry lip gloss. Her rounded ears were pierced with a few gold rings as a tiny stud spotted the right crevice in her small nose. Her hair, however, was in five streaks of intense hues, all bundled together in a pony tail behind her head.
She wore a wide collared, long sleeved, mint green sweater that cropped off above her navel. One end of the collar dipped below her left shoulder and revealed the strap of a black training bra that matched in hue with her black leggings; her strong legs were under a small, mint skirt, and her full attire was quite cute and attracting to him. Zack was a bit taken back by her appearance and he had forgotten what he was going to say next. He thought that honestly it wouldn’t be so bad to meet a guy and buddy up with him, but he reconsidered his dilemma and thought that meeting a girl wouldn’t be so bad too.
She faintly smiled at his attempt to find more words as she replied, “Sorry pal, I’m taken.” She took a small sip of her mixed, cyan beverage and looked away.
Her response to end the conversation had failed as Zack leaned himself on the bar counter and continued, “I don’t care, I’d like to meet as many people here tonight as I can.”
Without looking his way, she firmly replied over her shoulder, “Why don’t you go back with your friends or something, you’re creeping me out.”
“I came here alone, that’s why I’m trying to make friends, you know?” She finally turned back towards him with skepticism across her face.
She smirked at him, “Who in their right mind goes to 7o4 alone?”
“Well, someone who has lost their mind, of course.”
She softly giggled and shook her head, “You’re crazy, dude.”
Zack salvaged the end of that conversation to start another, asking, “Hey, want to see something that’s really crazy?”
The colorful girl coldly rebuked, “Uh, no.” She hunched her shoulders up defensively and layed her forearms on the bar.
“No, really, check this out!” He took off his beanie, turned himself around and showed her the patch of gauze on the back of his head. She glanced over, but immediately looked back when she realized what it was.
She questioned with concern in her tone, “What happened?”
Zack–as if he was proud of it–replied, “I shot myself in an attempt to end my life.”
Her eyes widened with disbelief, “What! No way!”
“True story. I could go into detail on everything, but that would bore you. What I’m getting at though is this: I want to change my life, meet as many people as I can and be as friendly to them as I can. After I survived my ordeal, I vowed to do something with my dilemmas. I don’t want to do something I hate to do, or be someone I don’t want to be–only to be happy for a short amount of time. I want happiness now and I want happiness till I die; I’m a changed man with new philosophies. I feel like that the first thing I need to change in my life is who I hang out with and what friends to keep and avoid.”
She happily smiled now comfortable around Zack and questioned him, “And you think by going to a club like this will help you find ‘good’ friends?”
Zack shrugged, “There’s good people everywhere, even in bad places. Hell, you seem like a good person.” She looked away, still smiling while swirling her magenta-painted finger nails in her drink.
“I’d like to think that,” she spoke with less enthusiasm, “but my boyfriend is the person who enjoys these type of places. I’m just here... because...”
“Oh, I see... Good for you, at least.”
She turned back towards Zachary and pointed her thumb over her shoulder, “Ya, he’s on the dance floor now... probably getting rubbed on by some other chick...”
Zack tipped his beer back and before placing it back down, he reckoned, “Do you think he comes here just to dance?”
The thin girl breathed with uncertainty, “I would like to think that...” She looked back behind her into the crowd while Zack was taking another swig. She swiftly tapped him on the shoulder and quickly pleaded, “You need to leave now!”
“What for?”
“Leave before he sees you with me!”
“But I want to meet him!” The girl couldn’t believe what he said and knew that her boyfriend would not take too kindly to his kindness. Zack turned and saw a tall man speedily coming towards him. He smiled and waved at him, as if he confidently awaited a speeding car to brake before hitting him. The burly man pulled Zachary up by his shirt and to his feet. The boyfriend was a lot larger than Zachary, both in size and muscle. He had a thin, black and well trimmed beard across his jaw line that matched his darken eyes while in the nightclub. He wore a blue tank top with a band logo slapped on and black and white camouflage cargo shorts. He seemed like an athletic type–much like his girlfriend–and Zack could see why he would date someone like her at first sight.
He barked out, “You better have a good reason to be chatting with my girl, buddy!”
Zack honestly replied, “Just making friends... Say, you’re pretty tall–taller than me that is–and people say I’m pretty tall already. Do you play basketball? I love basket–”. Zack was silenced as the boyfriend’s fist was submerged into Zachary’s stomach. As the air exited his lungs, he fell back onto his seat and just as quickly fell off of it onto the pulsating, tile floor.
The girlfriend shot up in front of her boyfriend, “Raison, that’s enough! Leave him alone! He’s a good person!”
Raison turned toward his girl, “Stay out of this, Brandi.” She tried to grasp him by the side of the shoulder, but he moved away and towards Zack.
He picked him up again and sneered, “Had enough?”
Zack rose his hand up to his waist and wheezed, “My name’s Zack, nice to meet you.”
Raison took his comment as a wise-crack remark and cranked his right arm back. Without warning, he threw his fist into Zachary’s face. Zack spiraled backwards and half of his body fell flat over the bar counter. A crowd began to form around the three as cries of shock and cheers for more grew louder over the rising music. Bouncers were heading their way, but the large crowds in the nightclub slowed their arrival. Zack remained motionless, thinking about his predicament and status. He didn’t feel too hurt and the pain felt like nothing compared to what he had endured in his three day long–yet somehow six year fantasy. He knew he could take him, but refrained from violence, taking a more pacifist approach towards his enemy.
Brandi begged Raison, “Please stop! Let’s just go home!”
He looked down at his short girlfriend and replied, “I’m not going to let some faggot think he’s better than me!” Zack pushed himself up off of the counter slowly and turned, looking back at the temperamental–now shirtless–man before him.
He rose his hands before Raison, palms open and said gently, “I don’t want to fight you. I just want to be friends... maybe we can chill out, relax all cool? Perhaps shoot some b-ball outside the school?”
Raison pointed a finger at Zack and threatened with intensity, “I hope you’re ready to lose your life, smart ass!” Zack–with a calm smile–looked over at Brandi. He could tell in her eyes that she was through with this bozo and that she wouldn’t mind whatever he did to him.
Zack returned his gaze back towards the muscular specimen and answered his death call, “Good luck with that, cause I have nothing to lose.”
Raison charged Zachary, but Zack didn’t move. He had seen this too many times, he had read and experienced such maneuvers before in his dream; he knew what to do to stop this brute because he had already planned his actions in advance. Raison may have been in a couple of high school fights, and perhaps won a few by knockout, but he had never trained in fighting it appeared to Zachary. Zack, however was trained to kill–and he had killed plenty of creatures and had a plethora of experience in doing so.
As Raison neared his target, Zack reached behind him and grabbed his half-empty bottle of ale. He then weaved around the attacker while swinging his arm out, letting the bottle slam into shards against the back of the opponent’s head. Beer and glass sprayed and scattered over everyone as Raison fell flat between the bar stools, knocked out cold. Shrieks of excitement and cheers from the crowd exploded out over the roaring bass drop. People jumped wildly about, screaming obscenities and patting Zachary on the shoulders and back. Zack looked over towards Brandi, who sported a look of shock and awe across her face.
He walked over to her, leaned in closely and asked, “You want to go and get coffee or something?” She looked down at her ex-boyfriend and then back at Zachary–she nodded slowly and cracked a small smile. Zack put out his hand–which Brandi didn’t notice at first–and properly greeted himself, “My name’s Zachary by the way.”
She fully beamed and replied, “Brandi, Brandi Woahs.”
Zack chuckled, “Woah, cool name.” She blushed at the stupid pun he made and finally saw his open hand, readied for a nice handshake.
Her eyes shot open as she shrieked, “Oh my God! Your hand!” Zack confusingly lifted his hand before his face and noticed that there were fragments of glass buried into his bleeding palm and fingers.
He eyeballed his damaged appendage and noted with curiosity, “Well, would you look at that...”
“I met this girl, her name is Brandi Woahs,” Zack sweetly said, as if he was in an elated trance.
“Woahs,” questionably repeated Jonathan, cross-legged and using the blunt of his pen to scratch the top of his head.
Zack turned and commented, “Ya, I know! Woahs!”
Jonathan simpered, “Well, I’m proud of you, Zack. Making friends seems natural to you. What’s she like?” Zack leaned back into the chaise chair and placed his hands behind his head, intently staring up at the ceiling as is searching for something.
“I’ve only been chatting with her for a week, but I seem to already know so much about her. After I took her to Clyde’s Coffee House and got her number afterwards, we’ve just been texting–but we plan on meeting tomorrow afternoon for lunch.” Zack broke his concentration with the plain looking ceiling and remembered, “Oh, sorry. I’ll answer your question now.” He withdrew his hands behind his head and used his left to count his fingers on the right. Doing so, he began naming off traits Brandi had that he admired.
“She’s kind, caring, considerate, understanding, and I’d say loyal too... just to name a few at least.
“Are you two dating?”
“Nope, I’m taking things slow at the moment.” Dr. Horton jotted down some notes on his pad and hummed with affirmation.
He digressed on a new note, “How’s college going? What are you majoring in?”
Zack sat up and reflected for a moment. He hadn’t thought about his major in a long while and it took him a few seconds to seek out that knowledge within his memory. Even though he was attending UNC Charlotte classes and desperately trying to keep up his grades, he hadn’t once thought about what he was majoring in upon his return to school.
“I think...” he paused, “...I’m going for a Bachelors in Communications... Pretty dull degree field, huh?”
Without looking up, Jonathan spoke somberly, “I’m not going to lie, it seems to me you don’t know, or didn’t know what you wanted to do when you decided on a major.”
“You’re right, I didn’t... Kind of still don’t. But you know, I have my Associates and if I stop now then those two years will be worth nothing. I would rather continue down the path I started then start over. Plus, if I do decide on a major I would rather want, I would have to accumulate even more debt in my name. That’s also not counting the fact that I would be pursuing a career I wouldn’t want to pursue.”
The doctor asked Zack another question, “What does Brandi do? Is she going to college?”
“Yes, flight school technically,” Zack happily corrected himself. “She’ll be flying commercial planes here soon. I can’t remember the correct term for it, but she’ll be flying those small, single engine prop planes. She’s always enjoyed it; her father was a pilot and she’s been flying long before she went to college.” Jonathan lowered his notes and thoughtfully looked Zachary in the eyes.
Doctor Horton asked him, “If money wasn’t an issue, what would you do–if anything?” Zachary looked away and thought for a moment.
He then replied, “I... I don’t know...”
“Of course you do,” Jonathan blurted out. “Stop fooling yourself! Everyone enjoys doing something. What have you discovered that you enjoy?” Zack knew the answer, but was unsure if he should say it.
“I want to be a blacksmith,” Zack stated in one breath. He felt as if the words he pushed out stung his lips; he immediately felt remorse for admitting such an ambition. Dr. Horton silently blinked in confusion for a delayed moment, and then remembered that Zachary had said before that he was a blacksmith in his dream.
Jonathan pointed at Zack when he finally remembered and stated, “Ah yes, you were a blacksmith in Ponyville!” Zachary nodded, quite embarrassed. He didn’t like talking about it or even thinking about; he tried not to over the course of the week, trying to push those illusions out of his head. It was even worse when Jonathan spoke about and it made Zack visibly cringe. Zack had a strange dilemma though and it had to deal with his dream. He didn’t know if should tell Jonathan about it or not–but in the end, he decided to.
“Speaking of which,” Zachary began slowly, “over the course of the week, I started noticing something strange about my memory. A week ago, you know, I could recite the entirety of my time in Equestria, but now... now it’s starting to fade. A little bit everyday. Faces in the dream have begun to blur. Things I did and things I said are disappearing from my memory. Beautiful, wonderful, and terrible moments... vanishing...” Jonathan tilted his head and nodded with a warm smile on his face. Zachary looked up at him, befuddled by his gesture and expression.
Dr. Horton recalled a quote he read and enunciated it with dignity, "You are always free to change your mind and choose a different future, or a different past.” Jonathan stopped, then continued, “Not one of my favorite quotes by Richard Bach, but a good one for this situation you seem to be in.”
Zack questioned, “Could you elaborate, please?”
“You want to forget Equestria, you truly do, but you don’t want to forget it at the same time. You are at crossroads, Zachary. You can choose to leave behind the past and move on with the future, or you can choose to stay behind, never to change or leave your comfort zone.”
He went on to explain himself, “Stay, relive your experiences, isolate yourself, perhaps even try and kill yourself again–or you can change that. You can take all of the mistakes you’ve made and leave them behind, or let them become a weight to hold you down. The choice is always yours to make.”
Zachary stepped foot out of Dr. Horton’s apartment with a burning desire to sincerely change who he was. It was hard to think that he hadn’t been in Equestria for six years, that all of the friends he made there were nothing more than characters in a distant fantasy. He wasn’t a hero from a magical land, nor was he the depressed, self-loathing boy that he once was–he was reborn a new man. His heart was rekindled with passion and he could no longer look back at who he once was. He had the power to start something new, to go on a new and beautiful journey; and though he would miss the comforts of the past, he knew he had to move on.
Zachary deserted his major and left college all together. He found a metal fabrications workshop on the east side of the city; there, he walked in and told the owner that he would do any job given to him for minimum wage. He had to start somewhere and so he did–from sweeping floors, cleaning machinery and learning the ins and outs of the business, he did anything and everything. It never did pay much–Zack knew it didn’t in this day and age–but it was something he enjoyed.
Zack and Brandi spent more time together, and though Brandi was quite busy with building her career, she tried to stay in touch with him as much as possible. He soon told her about his new goals, on how he had quit college to pursue what he desired. She was happy for him, yet worried that he would eventually run out of money. Since he stopped going to classes, his student loans were soon about to commence and he would have no way to pay for his current apartment.
She offered to share her condominium with him and her friend, as long as he would pay a third of the rent. Upon that offer, he sold his apartment as fast as he could, gained a small amount of extra profit from it and tucked it away in his bank account. Along with moving in, he was introduced to Brandi’s roommate, who was outgoing and much more energetic than Brandi herself. She invited him to their weekly game nights and soon Zack was introduced to a whole flock of wonderful, new and very different friends from very different walks of life. The more they all hung out together, the better and happier he was.
He had worked his way up in the metal shop quickly and most of the veteran employees were astounded at Zachary’s, ‘natural skill’. Though they had to teach him how to weld and work with the more powerful, modern machinery, he learned quickly and was soon handling entire client orders with a seemingly endless stamina day to day. Even after hours, he would tinker around when he had nothing better to do and found that he had a knack for crafting rods of iron and bronze into artistic shapes. Some of his coworkers took notice of his handiwork and pushed him to make an extra profit off of it. Zack heeded their words and did so with hesitance; he had never been good at any sort of art and he only saw the flaws in his designs. Zack quickly learned that people will pay anything that looks remotely like whatever he said his art looked like.
With extra cash to burn, a girlfriend he enjoyed more than Caroline, good friends and a stable job, Zack never looked back at his past life ever since he left it; and he had quite forgotten about his dream all together.
On a lazy, Sunday afternoon, two lovers cloud gazed in a nearly vacant park. Zack and Brandi lay together, hand in hand, enjoying the Spring weather and blue skies without a care in the world. Zack leaned back and rested his head on the grass, but Brandi remained focused, deep in thought on something Zack couldn’t determine.
Zack took in a long breath and gently spoke, “This is too nice of a day to waste. I don’t think I can get up and back to work in an hour... I should take the rest of the day off, it’s not very busy at the shop today anyways.” He looked over at his girlfriend and asked, “How’s your day going?” Zack had broken Brandi’s concentration, startling her a little.
She replaced her frown with a smile and lightly chuckled, “Pretty good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
She nodded, “Just... good then.”
Zack sat up a little, “You hesitated. What’s up?” She sat in silence for a moment, twiddling her thin fingers in her dyed, multi-colored hair she admired greatly.
She finally replied, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it... Just girl stuff...”
“Oh,” Zack sighed with sarcasm in his tone, “The hidden and sacred knowledge of ‘girl stuff’. I won’t ask again then.” Brandi laughed out loud and laid back down next to Zack, sharing the view of the blue atmosphere. Clouds sailed high above in the strong gales, graceful giants going their own ways. Their horizon from all sides were hidden away by the silver and gray towers of the city. Their park was cradled in the metal bed of the city and the park was the only greenery around until leaving the main metropolitan.
Zack pointed to a single, isolated cloud among the white mounts and merrily commented, “If we both focus on that cloud, I know we can use our mind powers to shrink it down and make it fade away.”
Brandi grinned and replied, “Well alright, if you say so.” The two watched the cloud intently as it slowly whizzed above. Gradually, it broke apart into swirling, white strands of cumuli and then grew faint against the vivid sky.
“Good job,” Zack congratulated softly. “Now that’s what I call teamwork.” Zack spoke up again after he had taken in another, lively breath of fresh air, “It’s been a year and a half since we met, and I still can’t even fathom it. So much has changed in our lives... We’ve already been through so much it seems.”
“Especially you,” she added. “From what you have told me, about you being suicidal and depressed–I don’t even think I’ve seen you truly depressed.” Zack never realized it until then, but she was right. He hadn’t been that deeply saddened in a long time. He had no reason not to be or even strive on events in the past or problems that might occur in the future. Zack didn’t add anything to her statement however, he just repositioned himself to his side and looked over at Brandi. She wasn’t paying attention to him, but instead was looking away with a strange, sorrowful expression casted over her soft face. He thought that she was happy, but seeing her expression now began to worry him.
He inquired, “What’s the matter, Brandi?” He waited for her to respond, and saw that she was internally fighting with herself to bring her troubles to the surface. Her face began to redden as tears filled her eyes. Zack moved closer, placing his rough hand on her shoulder. She turned and placed her smoother hand on his, their hazel eyes interlocked with one another.
She trembled and said in a quivering, soft voice, “Zachary... I’m pregnant...” Zack sat emotionlessly, taking in her words while searching for the right response to say. “I’m positive,” she went on. “I tested again and again... but Zack...” She stopped when she noticed an even stranger expression grow across Zachary’s face. A smile began to bloom at a time she thought he too would be devastated.
He grabbed both her hands and excitingly beamed, “That’s fantastic news!”
“Zachary,” she gawped, breaking his hands from hers, “no it isn’t! We can barely afford to take care of ourselves! How do you think we’ll be able to take care of our child? Worst of all, I have one more year of schooling; I have debts to pay, much larger debts than you’ve accumulated. How are we going to afford all of this?” Zack’s heart raced with excitement, ignoring most of what Brandi was complaining about. He still couldn’t believe that he was going to be a father.
“It’s fine,” he said, holding her hands again, trying to sooth her. “We’ll make it! Together! I know we can!” He could tell just by looking at her that she didn’t believe him. Her distraught face exhibited fear and uncertainty; she had no idea how to cope with their predicament, even when she had known about her pregnancy longer than Zack had known. Yet something awoke in her and she didn’t know how exactly to express it. It had arisen from no where, just from being in Zack’s presence. From his words, it gave her strength and she began to trust him like she always had. She wiped the tears from her eyes and proudly smiled before him, nodding in approval that she would be okay. Her joy soon fleeted as she thought of another issue and said it aloud as the thought came present in her mind.
She made known her concerns somberly, “We’re not even married though...”
Zack–still seeping with energy and living for the moment–proposed, “Well, why don’t we get married?” She looked over at Zack like he had said a horrible thing; her face was twisted with confusion, as if marriage was a foreign concept to her.
Straying from tradition–and without a true token of marriage–he asked her with the utmost certainty and tact, “Brandi Woahs, will you marry me?” She was completely caught off guard as she shot to her feet in disbelief. It had all happened so quickly, she couldn’t believe it. Zachary sat up and positioned himself onto one knee, looking up at the speechless Brandi. She held her hands over her mouth, her eyes watering up once more with excitement and joy instead of fear and sadness.
She finally answered with a new breath, “Yes!” Zachary arose and embraced Brandi as she began to cry into his shoulder. A new adventure was about to unfold.
Months had passed, yet Zachary nor Brandi hadn’t discovered a way to hold off the coming, costly debts. At the time, Zack was sure he could find a way to make more money before the birth of their child and after their short-lived, inexpensive wedding; but as time went on, he grew more concerned and distressed over the issue. His hollow promises of a vague future were soon falling between his fingers and he had no idea what to do.
One day at Zack’s work place, the owner of the shop approached him. His boss pointed his thumb over his shoulder to where the offices were saying, “Zack, come here for a sec. There’s someone here to see you out front.”
Zack stopped hammering down a thin piece of tinplating and anxiously stepped into the main offices. He was met by a thin, well dressed individual that looked as if he had walked into the wrong business. His appearance was quite unfitting compared to everyone else’s attire in the shop, though his angular face lit with glee upon seeing Zachary. Zack wasn’t sure if he had met this man or not, but Zack was graced with a humble bow as if he were royalty.
“Ah yes! The artíst himself,” he enunciated loudly in a deep voice. He rose and followed up his greeting with a firm handshake. The out of place man wore a black dress coat with a navy vest and white dress shirt underneath. His sharp features and deft fingers complimented his attire, though his dark, long and wavy hair flowed slickly down behind his head, breaking the trend. His pencil-thin mustache danced over his upper lip as he went on to speak, drawling along his native, European accent.
“My name is P. Sanfāntcy,” he boldly and quite officially introduced himself. He spoke of his feminine surname (if it even was his real name) as if he was proud to bare it.
“May I help you,” Zack subtly griped. He strangely desired to get back to work and cared not to meet with this clown. The thin man–using his ocean blue eyes–looked over the craftsmen as if he were a piece of art himself. After the quick scan, he straightened his posture and fixed his uneven, lavender bow tie, all while keeping an affixed smile on his face.
“I come from Middlesex, England to see the craftsmen of metal himself. Your art, yes, it piques my interests more so than others and I have many of your works in my chateau. One day, I came to a thought, 'I shall go over the Atlantic and offer a handsome deal with this artist to make more of these masterpieces'. You see, I also own a small–but renowned–art museum in the same province, and I would 'love' to fill it with your statues. Though you seem to take too long to make the art I admire and I would pay you quite handsomely for you to make me more of it. And by more, I mean enough to fill my museum, of course. It would be temporary work, but I assure you that your pockets will be satisfyingly filled.”
Zack wanted to make sure what he heard was correct as he repeated what he discerned, “So, let me get this straight... You want me to make my artwork for you?”
“Yes! That is correct, sir.”
Zack then asked another question, “Would I need to leave? Can I make art here?” P. Sanfāntcy waved his hand out in front of him as if the issue could be blown away.
“Oh-ho-ho,” he chuckled lightly, “Nothing to worry about. I will pay out of my pocket to ship the art, via airmail. All you have to do is deliver it the postmaster with my card shown and he shall deliver and ship the art. All you have to do is make me three,” he said while holding out his thumb, index and middle finger, “pieces of art a month and ship them to me by the end of the month.” Zack thought for a moment on the offer, he knew he would have to really push himself to make that much artwork. He only made simple animals and people in his work, and usually it takes him a month to complete just one figure.
He responded halfheartedly, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I can do it. Can you give me some time to think on it?” Sanfāntcy hummed to himself, rubbing the underside of his chin in deep thought.
He finally spoke aloud, “You have twenty-four hours, Mister Zack.”
Zack was astonished as he ranted, “A whole day? Really? I’d have to quit my job just to satisfy your needs!”
“HA,” he boomed, reaching a hand into his coat pocket and withdrawing a small checkbook. “Well maybe this will make your worries conclude!” He quickly scribbled down an appropriate check and cleanly ripped it from the checkbook to hand to Zack. Zack took it in his hands and stared wide-eyed at the offer before gently slipping it into his back pocket.
“And not a euro less,” he laughed. “Should I come back tomorrow, or do you have an answer for me now?” Zack looked over at the owner of the shop, who had been watching the entire ordeal commence before him.
Zack asked his boss, “Do you think I should follow up on this guy’s offer. I don’t want to offend you but,” Zack was cut off by his supervisor's laugh as he patted him on the shoulder.
“Follow the money, Zack. Who am I to stop you? Judging by your expression when looking over that check, I’d say he’s offering you a lot more than I ever would.”
“That’s not the point. I enjoy working here, and I know I would have to quit to fulfill Sanfāntcy’s wants.”
“I’ll keep things simple for you, Zack. You’re a good guy. You come in on time, you do your work, you don’t complain–I’d hire you back on the spot over anyone else who walks in my doors. You’re one-of-a-kind; if things don’t work out then don’t sweat, just come on back.” Zack smiled and shook his employer's hand firmly.
Zack expressed his gratitude, “Thank you, sir.”
“No problem.”
Zack turned back towards P. Sanfāntcy and admitted, “Okay, you got a deal.”
Since Zachary’s deal with P. Sanfāntcy, he was getting paid six times more a month than he ever was paid at his old metal fabrications shop. His supervisor supported him even after Zack had left his job by letting Zack use his shop to make his art, knowing that he couldn’t create it anywhere else in town. He used his earnings wisely and decided to pay off his debts as soon as he could. At the same time, he used more of his salary to pay off Brandi’s debts, quite effectively leaving the two with a very comfy nest egg.
As the money kept flowing, the two kept saving and planning for larger investments. Soon, Zachary had bought himself a new car, as well as started searching for a larger home. Brandi suggested to move out more into the country and to buy a few acres of land as well. Zack thought her idea was an excellent one and went with it, In no time, they secured an older farm house in the far Piedmont Region, bordering the Blue Ridge Mountains. When they had finally moved in, the baby was soon due in a few short weeks time.
The feeling was a bit surreal for Zachary, his changed life and these new predicaments. It often kept him up late at night, sleepless from the constant thinking. It wasn’t that he was scared for what the future held in store–he felt more anxious than any other emotion. As if waiting for the sun to rise after a long, dark night; he ever so wanted to feel its rays and warmth upon his skin. It was an unreal sensation, but incredibly believable.
The time had come for the long expected delivery as Brandi was rushed to the nearest hospital. Zack was fearful, but as for a reason why, he couldn’t imagine. The moment had lingered on and the baby was five days overdo. The suspense had finally caught up and this is what honestly overwhelmed Zachary. Yet still, mystery clouded his mind and he deeply wondered what gender the baby would be–for they decided a few months that they would want it to be a surprise.
While Zachary awaited outside the delivery room, he tapped his foot apprehensively while looking out the dreary window. It was overcast, painting his bleak view with whites, grays, and blacks. A few flakes of snow were softly gliding down from the heavens onto the hospital buildings, the first snowfall of the season in the Carolinas. He tried taking his mind off current matters, but he couldn’t for the life of him. The drifting, calming snowflakes could not ease his mind. Suddenly, his phone buzzed to life–a call was coming in from a number couldn’t recognize. He was sure it was a telemarketer, but answered anyways despite his hunch.
“Hello,” he started in an emotionless voice.
A dour, chill voice answered back, “Hey, Zack...” Zack knew that voice, but he couldn’t remember where from.
He remained silent for a moment before responding, “Who is this?”
“Jason.”
"Who?" The voice on the other end of the line repeated his name slower.
"My God..." Zack thought, mouth agape with amazement. It was his older brother, who seemed to have vanished without a trace years ago when Zachary was just a teenager. He knew no other named Jason, so he immediately connected the name with his almost forgotten sibling.
Zack couldn’t quite believe it as he strongly denied, “If this is some practical joke, you’ve gone too far! I’m hanging–”
“No, Zack, it’s really me.”
He snarled with fire in his tone, “Prove it!” There was a brief silence, then a quiet response provided its reasonings by the person who called himself Jason.
“Remember when we use to play Hide-and-Seek in the forest? And mom use to bundle us up so much that we could barely bend our knees to run?” He kept going as Zack fell back in a nearby chair, having a difficult time believing in what he was hearing.
“Do you remember when I wrecked your new bike’s frame, the one with the bell you wanted? You threw a stone at the back of my head and I had to get several stitches–I can still feel the crevice back there... Or do you remember when I dared you to cross over that toppled log down by our neighbors’s pasture? You fell and I had to dive in to save you. You insisted on telling mom about my dare and boy, did I get a whooping of a life time. Ha, you were a real revenge seeker back then–”
“And where the hell have you been,” Zack murmured with distaste, now believing that he was talking to his brother and no one else. “Do you even know what’s going on in my life right now?”
Zack heard Jason sigh as he responded with sincerity, “Yes. You’re in the waiting room, waiting to see your child.” Zachary’s lips quivered at a loss for words.
“How do you know,” he asked quickly, looking around him to see if Jason was near by. He couldn’t quite remember what his brother looked like or how the years have changed him, but he would certainly know if he saw him.
“I know a lot of things... but I can’t say much... Are you on a phone right now?” Zack removed the communication device from his ear to look over it, as if something had changed about it.
He put the cellphone back to his ear and replied, “Yes, of course. What type of question is that?”
“Man, oh man,” he said with a quiet laugh, “you wouldn’t believe how I’m communicating with you right now. The things I’ve seen, the places I’ve been to–you wouldn’t believe it if I told you. It’s so insane and crazy here, but hey, I’m getting off topic.” Zachary realized then that Jason’s voice didn’t sound like he was talking through a phone, but directly before him as if he was in the room.
He went on more somberly, “Zachary, I’m truly, truly sorry for abandoning you. It was really against my will. You know I would never leave you... Well, maybe you’ve grown to believe that, but when we were children...” Zack could hear his breaths hasten on the other end of the line–he was getting emotional, as was Zachary.
He went on more slowly after another delay, “...When we were children... you looked up to me because I was the older one, because I was the stronger one. Even through all the teasing I did and all the things I made you do against your will and judgment, you still looked up to me. Now I know why you had that determination, it was because you were so much more stronger than I was, and you still are. Zachary, you’re so much better than me. I’ve done so many wrongs I cannot undo. Nothing I say can erase those errors. I just want you to know... that I love you... and I miss you terribly. Please forgive me.” Zack was seized up in mixed emotions long before his brother had finished his plea.
Zack’s voice trembled with sorrow as he stated, “I forgive you... Just come home already... Come live with me. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. You’re my brother, god dammit. I’ll always love you.” There was a pause and Zack heard nothing from his brother as if he stepped away from whatever he was talking through.
“...I can’t come home... I know I’ll never see you again. This is the last time you’ll hear from me... I’m sorry...”
“B-but why? Why, Jason?”
“I just can’t, I’m sorry. I have to go and so do you.”
A cheerful voice from behind Zachary called out to him, “Is the new father ready to see his baby?” Zack turned towards the nurse, face flushed and eyes glazed with tears.
He heard Jason speak through the phone that was away from his ear, “I also wanted to talk to you about something else, something that is happening to you, Zachary. Your life right now should not exist. You must break free from it before it’s too late.” He turned back and pressed the phone against his ear, subliminally ignoring what Jason had said.
He beckoned out over his phone, “No! Don’t go! Not yet! Just... just... just come home and speak face to face with me! Please!”
Jason silently breathed out a weary chuckle, “Zack... I’m not even on Earth...”
On those last words, he hung up. The monotone ring from the other end buzzed in Zachary’s ear. What all Jason meant was a mystery to Zachary, but it would all have to wait as he slipped the cellphone in his pocket and made his way to the delivery room.
Brandi was asleep when he entered. From a mix of exhaustion and pain medications, she had fallen unconscious after the baby was born. A team of doctors huddled around her and simultaneously turned to greet the new father. An older doctor, cradling a white, cocoon-shaped swaddle of blankets, gently handed Zachary his baby.
“Congratulations,” the doctor said in a calm, enthusiastic manner, “it’s a beautiful, healthy girl.” Zack looked into his arms and saw the sleepy, clean and pink child. He smiled as he dried his eyes from the previous tears. Zack slowly walked over to a tall, nearby window to watch the snow fall with his unnamed daughter. A few of the doctors stepped aside to let the father be alone with his new child for a few minutes. His daughter looked up at Zachary with wonder and allurement in her sky-blue eyes. He began to rock her softly while looking over the snowy landscape.
He spoke sweetly, almost silently, “Welcome to the planet. I know this isn’t the best place to raise a child, but we’ll try our best, cause that’s all we can do. There’s lot of awful and evil things in this world... but there’s a whole lot more beautiful and good things too.” Zack looked down to see that his daughter was already asleep. He smiled from dimple to dimple, softly rubbing his finger across his child’s face.
“...And there’s so much mystery still in the world too. And sometimes, sometimes I can’t believe it all. I can’t believe I didn’t kill myself years ago and that maybe this new life is some sort of paradise I’m not aware of. Maybe that’s what paradise truly is. Maybe being blissfully ignorant is part of being in your paradise. But looking at you, you fill me with hope. You being here tells me that this is my true life, that this is my destiny. And that perhaps... perhaps this is my paradise.”
And as he looked on out the window, content and hopeful, a lone, cloaked figure stood behind him in the dark. Silently watching, silently waiting.