Under The Sky

Ken:

When I think back to That Cold Night in June, I’ll always remember the way Maya turned back and smiled at me, for just a second, before she turned and pointed up to the night sky.

I followed her gaze and extended fingers, up into the dark morning sky, where I was met with… Nothing. Only stars.

Staring hard into that 3D blue, my vision began to waiver. I began to see what Maya had been so transfixed by:

There, hanging in the sky, rest a glowing white mark. No, not a star; it was ever so slightly larger than a star. As I gazed into it, I felt the mark pull my vision into it, until it appeared much larger than it had at first. It looked like a white-hot tear in the sky. And although it was bright, it did not hurt my eyes.

The edges of The White Hole in the Sky seemed to shimmer, like they refused to be pinned down by my vision. I think I may have seen colors other than white in those sharp, broken edges, but when I try to focus on that sight, the memory starts to slip away. And something in me tells me I can’t lose this.

While we looked into the white tear, the world went silent. I couldn’t hear any animals in the forest, nor the sound of the gas lantern Maya had lit. The wind was blowing; I could feel it, but I could not hear the cracking of branches or swaying of the trees.

Maya barely turned her head to speak to me, but somehow her voice rang clear as day:

“Are you ready?”

Was the last thing I heard her say. Before I could respond, the white light emitted a terrible ringing, which shook the forest. Everything was bathed in light, and it seemed as if that light would consume me. I lost sight of Maya, and after that, I don’t remember what happened.

Anna:

Something woke everybody in the tent. Really early in the morning. It was chilly too. Right away I noticed that my tent only had two other people in it, actually. That was Gina and Allen. Gina was looking at me, confused. Whereas Allen, he was grumbling that he wanted a few more hours’ sleep.

Gina asked me: “What was that? Did you make a bunch of noise just now?”

“No, it woke me up too. Ken’s up— Must’ve been him.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence, before I’m unzipping my sleeping bag to get up.

“Ken?” I called, “What was that noise?”

But there was no response. I picked up the pace, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Our gas lantern was turned on, sat on the ground about a foot from the tent. Allen was looking wide awake now. Everyone was shuffling out of their sleeping bags now, as I was already crouching at the tent’s zippered door.

I was struggling with the zipper. “Ken?” I called, louder now. Maybe he was further away, taking a leak. No big deal. It was just starting to get light out— I could see a bit of blue glowing through the thin tent. “Fuck- This fucking thing”

“Let me try” from Allen. He was trying to nudge me over and help but his hands were getting in the way.

The zipper moved an inch and stopped again. I heard some shuffling from Gina.

“Hey, Ken? You out there?” Gina called, worry evident in her voice.

No response. Gina walked up on her knees beside me, “Here” She said, as she clicked a flashlight on. It was much easier with some light.

Before long we were free, and everybody was clamoring out of the tent on top of one another.

Allen:

My first thought was: Oh fuck, he’s dead.

The guy was lying on the dirt, face down! We all ran up to him, yelling his name, saying

“Ken, Ken! Get up! Wake up, Ken!”

I pulled him up so that he was on his knees, with his face off the ground.

“Oh thank God, he’s still breathing” I announced.

Anna was crouched at Ken’s other shoulder and started to shake him. Everyone was pretty freaked out, but Anna was even more rattled. We could all see the blood dribbling off his face, and I noticed there was a bit of blood pooled up on the ground where his face had been. I think at that point Gina had the good sense to go and fetch us the first aid kit— Gene’s sensible like that.

I turned my attention toward Anna, “Ann, you sure it’s alright to shake him like that?”

“I mean, I don’t know what else to—” She paused for a moment, “Ah! Look, it’s working! I saw his eyes flutter a little!”

“Jesus, Ann! If it’s working don’t shake him harder!”

Luckily, Ken began to stir, so Anna’s assault could finally come to a close.

Ken:

The sound of it woke up the other campers I guess, because they were shaking me awake.

Things were coming in and out of focus. I heard bits and pieces of the commotion. My eyes felt really heavy for some reason. It felt like sleep paralysis. “Jesus, Ann” Came from Allen, holding me up on my left. “Oh my God!” Someone exclaimed. “Ken! Are you alright?!” They were running up closer. I realized slowly that it was Gina’s voice.

My mouth opened, but no response came out. Maybe some incoherent sounds. I flinched when Gina raised her hands up to my face, with some kind of cotton pad, and that’s when I noticed my eyes were open. I don’t remember opening them. Actually, the guys had me sat up on the picnic bench, with my back to the table. So I must have passed out again?

“Ahh—” I hissed in a breath. “Agh— …what—”

“It’s a sterile wipe, honey, it’s gonna sting a little” Gina said.

“What ha—” It was hard to talk.

Ann looked relieved. She was sitting across from me, in a folding chair she’d pulled up next to Gina. “Finally, a full word from you!” Anna said. She gave a little laugh; she was trying to lighten the mood, but her shaky voice betrayed her.

I looked around helplessly. Serious eyes stared back at me, as Gina continued wiping at my face. “Thanks, guys.” Spilled out of me.

After a beat of silence, Allen burst out laughing at me. Genuinely laughing. It gave me a start. His laughter was contagious, and the tension between all of us started to melt into relieved smiles.

“Hey, when a bro is chilling face down, it’s what ya do, right?” He jested.

Although I was still being assaulted by Gina with the antiseptic wipes, and a taste of blood lingered in my mouth— “Hey, somebody get me some water, would ya?”— it was a refreshing sight to see smiles come back to my friends’ faces. I just lived through something crazy, but I’m surrounded by all my friends—

…

All my friends.

“Is something wrong?” Gina questioned, as she backed up to grab the cup of water Anna had poured me. She passed it to me and I gratefully accepted.

I swished the water around my mouth, rinsing out blood, and then I doubled forward, away from the group, to spit into the dirt.

“Dude what’s the matter?”

Something seemed wrong here. The dynamic between us felt wrong. Somehow. It felt awkward. Was it just because of, well, my little ‘dirt nap’? Or was something missing?

…

That was it. Something was missing! Or rather: Someone. Sitting up straight— startling everyone— I blurted out: “Where’s Maya?”

Gina:

Crisis: Averted. My friend is decidedly NOT dead. Yet, anyway. If he dies from some stupid infection later on, I’ll feel pretty bad so I continue cleaning up the scrapes and cuts all over his face. He looks fuckin’ terrible.

Leave it to Ken to beat himself in a fight, huh? Clumsy Ken, we call him. I’m wondering what he tripped on this time, not that Ken needs something other than his own two feet.

He’s asking for water, now. I’d oblige if my hands weren’t already full with, well, his face. But it’s okay, because right now, all eyes are on Ken, and I see Allen register the request, but Anna’s already on it.

Allen sits back down, and my eyes follow the motion, and continue down, resting on the task at hand. Ken’s smile fades as I dab more blood and dirt away from his scrapes. Guess it hurts, but he ain’t screamin’ so I ain’t stopping. I’m not touching anything anymore, but Ken’s still got this strained look in his eyes, like an action hero having a flashback. “Is something wrong?” I probe. The cut I’m onto is still welling up occasionally. OK, this one needs a band-aid.

I turn to grab another one from the first aid box, and see Anna pouring out some water into a cup. Is that really necessary, girl? But Anna is still Anna so I take the cup without complaint, spill a few drops over the side (oops), and smile, as I stick my tongue out at her scowl, so she won’t fuss about it. She smiles back. Success.

Turning back to Ken, I begin to push the cup of water toward his face, like I’m about to give a baby a sip. Guess I’ve gone full caretaker mode or something but Ken’s eager, and he intercepts the cup before I can make things awkward. Thank God. My face feels hotter than it should, but luckily no one notices because everyone is grimacing at the nasty spit-take that follows. Ew. Including me. I’m sure it was a relief to get all that blood out of his mouth.

However, he’s not taking another sip, or sitting back up. Ken remains pitched over himself, staring into the puddle. Of course, my eyes search the nasty wet dirt for what he’s looking at. I don’t see anything, what, did he not expect the blood? Then I worry maybe he’s passed out again so I lean over to see his eyes. Allen seems to have had the same idea so he works his way around to the front of Ken, beside me.

“Dude, what’s the matter?” He interjects. But Ken’s gaze just intensifies. He glances up just a bit. Then he throws us a curve-ball.

“Where’s Maya?”

Maya:

As I looked through my view-port, at this beautiful Version called Earth, I sighed, lightly, at what could have been perfect. Now there would be no ‘going back’, for my time with “Earth” was up. Although everything I learned would remain with me during my journey. They wouldn’t understand why, but decidedly, I tapped into the Version Settings, and found the input for a custom name.

Behind me, I could hear the buzzing of Another curiously wander by. Probably wishing to discuss any points of interest found in this Version. I waved them off, because there is no way I could articulate the mundane qualities of 6g359a and it’s customs, without sounding like I’d gone a bit mad. After all, it was perhaps the only Version not deserving to be spoken of, yet all the same deserving a name.

[E A R T H] I tapped in. From the Other One, I could hear their confusion, and slight offense, as they buzzed away, up the corridor, to find a better conversationalist.

Allen:

We packed up the camping equipment and got headed home that night. It was easily concluded that this camping trip would be cut short. I, for one, said we should go straight to a hospital, but everyone else was against it.

Anna thought he might come to his senses after a little rest at home. Gina said we should leave it up to Ken, and stop talking around him like that. And Ken said he was fine, and that everyone else was acting crazy, so Gina supported Anna.

Ken:

A prisoner in my own car, basically. Everyone thought I had a head injury, so they relegated me to passenger seat duty. The “lovebirds” as Maya would’ve said, sat in the back row, while Allen drove us. He silently navigated the twisting country road.

Watching the greens and grays of the forest zoom by, I wondered where Maya went. I could feel her out there, somewhere. Like feeling someone’s hand through a glass window. Only this window was invisible. And intangible. And maybe not even there at all. OK, I can see why the guys thought I was crazy.

The others… It’s like they can’t remember her! But when have we ever been together like this, without Maya? She was like the glue that held our group together. Didn’t she recommend this whole camping trip? They don’t even remember all the time we spent with her, just this week.

I gave up on trying to convince them. Three on one; it’d be impossible to win. So I figured I’d just wait for one of them to remember. It hasn’t happened yet, though. I’ve been sitting silently, for the whole ride. Maybe when we get back home, somebody there will be able to remind them of her.

That White Light. It made Maya disappear, and the others forget. But why didn’t I disappear? And why do I still remember?

Why am I still here?

Maya:

My hands rested up against the View-port. I’d borrow this form for a while longer. It couldn’t fully contain One of Us; I’ll constantly break out of it. But I was feeling sentimental, and it is customary among Our Kind to don the forms of more interesting Versions.

I suppose Earth did impact me. Why though? What was it that brought my thoughts back to that failed experiment, constantly? It wasn’t ready. So why did I linger on my experiences in that Version?

I kept telling myself: they couldn’t follow me, so they wouldn’t remember. There was something painful about that.

Suddenly, I notice an anomaly in the code. Memories that shouldn’t be there— preserved. Impossible, yet—



(Maybe there was something special about “Earth”.)