Returning home

It has always been easier to keep my head down. 

These crowded streets were the home of thousands of eyes searching to meet another pair, to beg them for something few had to offer: attention.

These crowded streets were the grounds I must tread to make it home at a decent hour. 

Most who walked the same streets kept their heads down, too. Somehow, it was easier to tell where the crowd was moving just by following the feet in front. Keeping my head down meant I was not interested in what that food stall was selling, or the man with the suspicious trenchcoat that jingled with what I could only assume were watches, and it also meant I felt my heart fail every time I passed a poor soul with a cardboard sign attached to a body that reeked of its own blood, sweat and tears.

I had to avoid the eyes of another. I could not afford to give any more than I already had. I had spent enough today. The box in my briefcase was proof of that. 

I kept to the right of the sidewalk, following the crowd downstream: the way I needed to go. The other side of the sidewalk would take me away. I had to be careful not to stop nor to be swept into the stream of streetwalkers headed the opposite way.

I was approaching a turning point and risked an upward glance to locate my bearings and cross the street’s rapids.

I slowed down too much and was pushed, unwillingly, further.

Stumbling, my shoulder crashed into the shoulder of another going upstream. I offered the man a brief apology, keeping my head down to mind my own business and allow him to mind his, but something caught my eye despite my attempts to protect them. 

A tail.

The tail was thin, wiry even, black and leathery. At its tip was a pointed arrow formed by three small triangles approaching its tip. It drooped low to the ground. 

I wanted to mind my own business, but I could not help but look back. Was that a tail or just a loose belt?

I risked eye contact.

As did he.

The man’s face was rather tame, handsome even. His square jaw, lined with a thin black beard, and broad frame indicated might, yet the wide-brimmed hat suggested stealth. Strange, however, that he wore a bright white suit as if he wanted to be noticed.

We had both stopped in the middle of our respective streams, but only I seemed to be an obstacle for others.

Eye contact was a bad idea. I made my turn and followed a new stream.

That wasn’t real. Was it?

I sensed a new stranger keeping my pace to my right. Strangers rarely walked shoulder to shoulder with one another. I tried to elude the stranger by slowing down, but they matched me again.

I risked eye contact.

It was the same man. 

A grin spread across his face. “You can see me? Can’t you?”

I shot my gaze back to the ground. Weighing my briefcase, feeling for the movement of the box I hoped was still inside. 

No. Nope. No, I cannot. Not happening. I need to get home. Nope. Nope. Nope-Nope. Nope.

“Oh, there’s no use hiding it now!” the stranger said, staring at me as his grin grew wider. There was an air of excitement and relief in his voice. “I’m here to take someone, that means someone who can see me, someplace new.”

Oh, God. It’s Hell, isn’t it? He’s going to take me to Hell. He’s a demon. Why else would a man have a tail like that? I’m not ready to die. I don’t want to die. Oh, please, if this is a demon, God, strike it down and save me, and I’ll never miss a Sunday again... starting next Sunday.

Nothing happened.

My heart began pounding out of my chest, the adrenaline kicking in, prompting a fight-or-flight response. 

I chose flight.

Shoving my way through the crowds in a panicked attempt to distance myself from the stranger and hoping the commotion I caused would be forgiven by the streetwalkers during my next commute, I barreled through the streets.

Though the city remained, the crowds suddenly disappeared.

“I thought they might get in the way,” said the stranger behind me. “For now, I have a request.”

They ask if you want to go to Hell now? That’s convenient.

“I don’t want to go to Hell.”

When I blinked, the stranger had moved in front of me, wearing the contorted expression of someone deeply confused.

“Why would you assume you are going to Hell?”

“Well... I mean... the tail... the grin... the... face. You... made everyone disappear! You are a demon, aren’t you?”

The man sighed. “No,” he said. “I’m not.” He reached behind himself and made a slight pull and revealing that the tail was nothing more than an accessory. “I just used it in hopes I would get someone’s, meaning your, attention.”

“But then, how did you make everyone else go away?”

“They did not go away,” he corrected. “We did. The planes between realms supply a good middle point between worlds. I could see everyone in your world, but not everyone could see me, as I am not native to your world. However, since you were able to see me, it means you are a native of my world. The planes of reality all coexist, but the senses do not perceive what does not come from their own reality. You can see both because you are the Lost Child.”

That felt insulting, considering I was–no–I am a full-grown man with a job who is on his way home to his apartment. 

“You were born in my world. In a desperate attempt to save you from a sorceress who sought to end the monarchy, which included you–”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “I’m a prince?”

“Yes,” he said tersely. “The king and queen sent you here when you were nothing more than a child. Your senses adapted to live in this world as you were so young, but they still know their true home. 

“The sorceress was defeated a few years after you were sent to this world, but when we began our search, you were nowhere near where we had left you, and the place was deserted. It seems there have been many advancements in this world too. In our world, you would be only a teenager now, but here you look...”

“Old?”

“Mature.”

“Thanks.”

“It would not do to disrespect a prince.”

“But it is acceptable to scare him half to death?”

“That was never my intention. Once we return to our world, you may have me executed, if you wish.”

“No- I wouldn’t- That wasn’t what I was trying to say... did you say ‘return’?”

“Yes. We already stand, as I said before, at a midpoint. It is but a little further to our world. If you merely take my hand, I can bring us the rest of the way.”

I didn’t want to leave. They may be my adoptive parents, but they raised me. I would miss Kate far too much. She is probably at the apartment, hoping I get home before the food gets cold.

The man noticed my hesitation. “My pri-”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m no prince. This is my home now.”

“But the king and queen-” he began.

“Lost their son. And I shall remain lost to that world I never knew.”

He was disappointed.

An idea occurred. I knelt down and opened my briefcase. It felt awkward to do so in what felt and looked like the middle of the day on a normally busy street, but it was my best option. I did not need to rummage for the picture I kept taped to the inside roof of the case. It was a picture of my family, in this world I suppose, and Kate that we had taken this most recent Christmas. A picture in which we were all smiling. I had it printed once, but I kept a copy on my phone. I could print another one. Removing the picture, setting it aside and retrieving the box to stuff in my pocket, I then closed the briefcase.

“Here,” I said, offering the picture. “You can tell the king and queen that I’m happy here. This will be proof enough.”

He approached and held the photo gently and pulled it from my fingers.

“As you wish, my prince.”

He snapped and the people reappeared around me. I was left to the stream of streetwalkers once more. The man was gone. 

I arrived at last at my apartment.

“Sorry I’m late,” I announced as I walked through the door. “I ran into an old friend of my parents’.” I continued walking toward her. She was distracted with the skillet.

“Your timing is perfect,” Kate said. “I was actually running a little behi-” I dropped to my knee and opened the box the present the offering inside. She noticed.

I didn’t even need to ask the question before she said, “Yes!”