The Locket

I look over at Noah. His face is tight and focused as he backs into a difficult parking spot. Everything blurs around me, and my body trembles. When we leave the truck, Noah rests his palm between my shoulder blades, guiding me to the elevator. 

What happened? I wonder to myself. He was fine a couple of hours ago. Oliver was alert and talking. My hand clutches the locket hanging around my neck. It was just a few hours ago that he gifted it to me. It contains a photo of me, Mom, Grandma, and himself.

Noah rushes me through the halls and to Oliver’s room. Anxiety runs through my body as we near his door. When Noah pushes it open, all I see is my unconscious brother. He has a pinkish gauze taped to his head. A tube sticks out of his mouth and wires protrude from his hospital gown. 

I feel my heart pounding against my chest. The world spins around me and my legs feel like they can no longer support my weight. I force one foot in front of the other as I approach Oliver’s bedside. His heart is beating, and he’s breathing. He has to be alive, right? 

The doctor explains to me and Noah that Oliver is brain dead. “Although it may look like he’s alive, the machines attached to him are what give the false appearance. His brain is no longer active and there is no chance of recovery.”

“How did he end up like this?” I ask. My voice breaks. “When I was here this morning, he seemed fine. They were talking about getting his discharge papers.”

“His fall, although not from a great height, resulted in the rupture of an aneurysm within his brain. We ran a scan when he first came in, but it was too small of a bleed to show up at that time,” Doctor Hamilton explains. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I’ll leave you alone with him for a few minutes.”

My legs go numb and I collapse to my knees. I grasp Oliver's hand as tight as I can. Noah kneels down next to me and rests his arm over my shoulders. I let go of Oliver and throw myself into Noah’s embrace. 

I try to regain my composure, and by the time I have, Doctor Hamilton and two nurses return. The sound of silence has overtaken the world around me. Even though the Doctor is speaking, I can’t hear what he’s saying. I cross to the other side of the bed and hold onto Oliver’s hand. I watch Noah nod, then step out of the way as one nurse pulls up the bars on the sides of his bed. The other nurse places the ventilator beside him. Noah herds me out of the room and signs a few papers. I watch as they wheel my brother away. 

The next couple of days all blur together; they just feel unreal. I keep expecting Oliver to walk through the door. I expect to wake up in the morning and find he's waiting for me to go on a run with him. I expect it, but it doesn’t happen. Not now and not ever again.

 Oliver put in his will that if something like this happened, Noah would become my guardian, even though he’s only a year older than I am. I’m so grateful to Noah. He’s always stuck by me through everything for as long as I’ve known him.

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the necklace Oliver gifted me on the day of his passing. I decide to pull the photo out and examine it closer. When I remove the photo, a thick origami heart with writing on it falls out of the locket. I slide off my bed and pick it up off the ground. After I stand upright again, I walk through the hallway down to the brightly lit dining room.  

The paper unfolds easily, and inside is a photo of my mother and an attractive young man. His outfit resembles that of a forest dweller from a fantasy story, and his ears have pointed tips like an elf's ears.

Someone wrote on the paper: Sip the vile, say Rowan Priss. Come find me and make a wish. Below that is a letter written to my mother. Probably from the boy in the picture.

  The letter says:

My dearest Kristina, 

I wish more than anything that I could return to you, but our forest has fallen to war against the fire people, and I don’t have any choice but to defend this realm. I promise, my love, that one day, I will come back for you and our children. Just like we always planned. Right now, it is far too dangerous for you all to join me here. I fear that if you do, doom will fall upon you.

I love you, my wonderful wife. I will see you all again soon. Tell Oliver and Harper how much I miss them.

With abundant love, Rowan.

I remove the cap from the vial and give the liquid a sniff. It has no smell, and it’s clear like water. This has to be a joke, right? I replace the cap and fold the letter back into a heart. I leave the vial on the table, along with the letter, photos, and locket. 

A pang of hunger causes my stomach to grumble, and for the first time in two days, I realize how hungry I am. I put a pot of water on the stove and sprinkle multiple seasonings in. When it reaches the boiling point, I stir in an egg. Voilà, egg drop soup. 

I shut the burner off and almost instantly, the lock on the apartment door clicks. The door creaks open, and Noah walks in. 

“Soph, I’m back.” He shouts toward my bedroom. 

“Hi, Noah,” I chirp. He walks into the dining room, clearly surprised that I’m not only out of my room, but I’m also making food. “I just finished making egg drop soup, if you want some.”

Noah hangs his briefcase from the back of a chair. “Mmm, that sounds amazing.”

I carry the pot out and place it on a cloth trivet. Noah is looking at the vile and origami heart with a worried look. “What’s all this?” He asks hesitantly. 

“Oh, I almost forgot about that.” I stutter, “I found that behind the photo in my locket.” Looking at it now, I realize that it could easily look as if I planned to do something dark. “Noah, this might sound really stupid, but I want to try something.”

“Okay?” He hesitates. 

I unfold the letter and hand it to him to read. “This sounds so stupid and so delusional, but I want to try. I just don’t want to be alone when I drink that suspicious liquid.”

Noah looks at me with uncertainty. I know how strange this sounds. I know it probably won’t even work. But I want to try. I’ve lost everybody that I share DNA with. My mom, my brother, my grandma. I’ve never even met my father. So if this even opens up a sliver of possibility for me to meet him or bring Oliver back, I want to try. 

Seeing the commitment in my gaze, Noah investigates the bottle with the expertise of his father’s detective training. Then he shrugs. “Alright. Try it.” I can hear the hesitation in his voice. He doesn’t think it will work. But he’s also not going to try stopping me. 

“Alright,” I say, holding the vial in one hand and the cap in the other. I take a sip. “Rowan Priss,” I say confidently and then wait. I wait a good thirty seconds and nothing. Nothing at all. I slack my shoulders out of disappointment and then shrug. “Oh well. It was stupid.”

I scoop some soup into my bowl and start sipping on the broth. Noah does the same. “I’m sorry, Soph,” he murmurs. I know he didn’t think it would work. Normally he’s a very literal guy, so I’m surprised he even went along with it. 

CRASH! The whole room lights up and I flinch, throwing my soup across the table. Then everything goes pitch black. 

“What in the living–” Noah snaps. 

When the lights come back on, a sickly thin man is standing next to me. I screech and fall out of my chair. 

The man is tall with pointed ears. He has tangled brown hair and a bushy beard. A dirty green tunic and brown pants clothe him. He gazes at me with welcoming eyes. 

“Kristina?” The man looks around.

“No,” I say quietly. “She’s not here. I’m Harper and this is Noah.” I get up off the floor and stand next to Noah. 

“Harper,” he repeats. “My daughter?” Noah looks from me to the man, wide-eyed. I pick up the photo and compare him to it. He has the same eyes and the same mouth. 

“Are you Rowan Priss?” I ask. 

“Yes,” he replies. “I am he. Though, in this world, I go by Rowan Keaton.” 

“And you’re my father?” I ask.

“If you’re Kristina’s daughter, then yes,” he replies, smiling a bright smile. "Which you must be, because you have the same stunning eyes."

The room falls into an awkward silence. My mind is swirling with confusion, surprise, and wonder. I never thought I would actually meet my father. Nor did I think this would work.

I recall the writing in the letter and think of a sentence that he had written: I promise, my love, that one day I will come back for you and our children.

“Sorry to be so straightforward.” My feet shuffle awkwardly. “Why did you never return for us?” I question hesitantly. “In the letter, you said you would.” I gesture to the letter on the table.

“I’m so sorry,” he answers. “After the fire people attacked, the Woodland fell. Most of my people have been in prison all this time, including me. I’m now free because you called me here.”

“You probably want to clean up, in that case?” Noah offers. “I have extra clothes. They’ll probably fit you.”

“Do you have a razor?” Rowan asks hopefully. 

“Yes,” Noah nods. “I’ll show you where everything is. Just follow me.”

Rowan follows Noah down the hall to his room, which had been my brother's. Oliver had things worked out so that Noah would get the apartment if he wanted.

I fall into the spiral of remembering the things I did with my brother. He’s taken care of me ever since I can remember, even when we lived with Grandma. I feel a warm tear slip down my cheek and quickly wipe it away. I can’t cry now. But I am. Another tear slips down my cheek. And another, and another. The tears keep falling as memories of my brother flood my brain. I can’t believe he’s gone.

When Noah returns, he stops at the edge of the hallway, watching me for just a moment. I don’t notice, though. Not until he comes closer and spins me around to hold me in a tight embrace. His arms are strong. He’s in the police training academy now, but his father was a detective. He has received training in this field since he was young. 

Noah’s arm shifts upward, and he covers my head with his hand. After a moment, I pull back and dry my face with my sleeves. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. But what I mean is, I can’t grieve when there’s a sliver of hope that I can get him back.

“No,” Noah consoles. “Sometimes you need to let yourself cry.”

“I’m fine now.” I clear my throat. Noah gives me a sympathetic glare. 

Noah and I wait on the couch. Rowan returns after nearly an hour, looking like a completely different person. He shaved his face smooth and braided his hair back, completely transforming his appearance. Is he really the man in the picture? He doesn’t look any older now than he did in that photo. He’s clothed in Noah’s blue jeans and a buttoned flannel shirt. We all visit and make small talk over dinner. Eventually, the conversation shifts to the topic of the letter and then the wish.

“Is it possible?” I ask.

“Yes, but it’s awfully dangerous.” Fear glints from my father’s eyes. “May I ask what you’ll wish for?” 

“Oliver,” I whisper. “I want to wish for Oliver, your son. He passed on a few days ago.” 

Sorrow crosses Rowan’s face. “Then we must leave at once.” He gets up from where he sits and heads to the door. Noah and I follow. I didn’t think he meant right this second. “It will be a quick journey,” he explains. “We must go west to the Glittering Willow. It should be a straight shot from where we land.” We follow him, barefoot, down the streets and to Central Park. The air is cool and causes a chill to run down my spine. “Keep in mind, the sun rises from the north and sets in the south where I’m from.”

“That will be very useful to remember,” Noah says.

“There is a catch, though,” Rowan states. He looks me and Noah in the eyes. “I can’t promise you’ll be able to come back to this world.” 

My eyes dart to Noah. “If there’s even a chance for me to get Oliver back, I want to try, but it isn’t fair for me to drag you along. I don’t want to force you into leaving your family and your dream.”

Noah hesitates. It seems like he’s trying to find the right words to say. “What dream?” He finally asks. “That was my father’s dream for me. This sounds like more adventure than I could ever come across in a lifetime. Wherever you go, I want to follow.” His voice drops before he says the next part, but I can still hear it. “Sophia, I love you.” 

Central Park is spooky in the dark. The owners are against any modern technology, so there are no lights to illuminate the path. 

Rowan instructs us to all grasp each other's hands, and to not let go until he says so. As soon as we all have a good grip on each other, he chants in a language I can’t understand.  

The wind picks up and whips through the land. My hair blows in all directions, and I clasp Noah’s hand tight. Rowan stops chanting abruptly. Or it just got so loud I can’t hear him anymore. Everything surrounding us spins faster and faster. The trees turn to stars, and a light flashes so brightly that I can see it clearly through closed eyes. The wind stops and everything is still. 

I open my eyes to see tall, dark trees surrounding us. The leaves are light green with all kinds of flowers and clusters of blue radiance. I gaze in awe at the beauty of this place.

“Welcome to the Forgotten World,” Rowan says with a hushed voice, though he’s grinning widely. “The Glittering Willow is just over there.”

I look in the direction he points. My mouth drops when I see the size of the willow tree. It has to be hundreds of feet tall. 

I fall into step with Noah as we walk. He stares at the leaves above. I try to say something to him. The words are right on my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t believe he left everything behind for me. His family, his training, his dream. Did he really mean it? Was that his father’s dream for him all along, or was he just saying that it was? My face turns red at the memory of his words. I love you. We’ve been friends for years. How did I not figure that out? 

“How does the wish work?” I whisper to my father.

“You cup a flower in your hands, and whisper the wish onto it,” he replies, describing it with his hands. 

A high whistle noise whizzes past me, and Noah groans beside me. I turn to see him drop to his knees, clutching his abdomen. “Noah?” I grab his shoulder. 

“Hornet’s,” my father barks. “Don’t move.” I crouch beside Noah and stop either of us from moving. Finally, the whistling goes silent. “It’s safe.” Rowan crouches beside Noah and examines his torso. The light is already fading from his eyes.

“How do we get the bleeding to stop?” I shudder. Even as I ask this question, Noah falls limp, and he stares blankly at the blue sky. “No,” I whisper. I never said it back. I never said I loved him.

Rowan sets his hand on my shoulder, but I throw it off and run to the tree. I clamp a flower between my palms and sob. “Please, bring him back. Bring Noah back. Please.”

Almost instantly, beams of light surge into Noah’s body. I watch as he floats high above my height. I watch his facial features transform, looking similar to Rowan's. He now has pointed ears and glittering eyes. Suddenly I realize my features are also elf-like here. When he lowers back to the ground, he lets out a gasp and opens his eyes. 

I run back to him and throw my arms around him. I might not get my brother back, but at least I’ll still have Noah. With tears glinting in my eyes, I whisper, “I love you too.”