Portal Conversation - Orion's Experience

(Josie Sayz: More archiving. Orion is a character from my ‘Fantasy Writing’ module at university. I wasn’t allowed to name him Orion in the end, because of the name’s connotations – I don’t see how or why that has ever stopped anyone before. Stupid Wendy! I don’t think I ever told her that her name isn’t real anyway! I bet she wouldn’t have liked that. Orion is a farmer/fighter from a Medieval time zone. Whilst fighting an orc, he falls into a portal that transports him to the modern world. This is Orion’s experience.)

He charged forwards. Holding his hoe between both hands, Orion ran through the woodland marsh towards the orc. Growling, its green mass towered over him. It stood staring at him, smug. With a war cry he leapt forward, thrusting his hoe towards the beast. It chuckled, as it side-stepped. Orion skidded. The sodden ground gave no grip. He swung his arm out to grab hold of a tree, but the sun shone in his eyes and he missed it, scraping his arm against the trunk. His sleeve tore. Falling forwards, he plummeted into the River Brackon. His head submerged. He gasped. Water flooded into his mouth, his nostrils and his ears. Kicking his legs, he jabbed the hoe towards the river’s bed. It pushed him up. He splashed his arms, grabbing out for the river’s bank.

Clutching onto the grass with his right hand, the flung his hoe out of the water, freeing his other hand. He grunted. His biceps strained, as he heaved himself out of the river. Kneeling on all fours he panted, water saturating the patch of land beneath him. Chocking, he punched his chest, trying to clear it from mouthfuls of river. He heard voices. Footsteps ran by. Grabbing his hoe, he hauled himself up. Water crashed around him. He jabbed his hoe into the ground and leant against it, panting. His clothes clung to his skeletal frame. Taking in sharp, raspy breaths, he pressed his hand to his chest. His heart thudded against his ribcage. His chest’s expansion and contraction slowly began to decrease in pace.

 Shaking the water from his hair, he looked up, searching for the orc. He jerked his head. Taking in a sharp breath, he spun is head to his left, then right. The sky was dark. The land before him deserted. The trees were gone. He spun around. The marshy thicket that he had been standing in had vanished. He swallowed hard. His breathing quickened. His heard drummed louder. Edging forwards he took in his new surroundings. To his far left was a line of trees, thin and leafless – nothing like the wide trunked and bushy leaved ones that he was familiar with. Where was the forest? His woodland thicket? The marshy grasses? He turned to his right – to the water which he had emerged from. A grey path ran alongside it, with what appeared to be a bridge running over the river, but it was nothing like any of the beamed bridges that he had ever seen. It looked like it might have been made of a shining stone, but it was so large and huge, vertical, metal spikes poked out from it, like prison bars. It looked like a torcher device.

Clawing his hand through his hair, he shuffled forwards. Buildings lined the edge of the grassy area in which he stood. They were no more than a hundred feet away. Their structure was strange, he thought. They were neither wooden nor stone. Deep mud-red coloured rectangles covered them, but what they were and how they stacked together made his brow furrow. As he neared the buildings, a high howling sound, which soon became low and distant and accompanied by a low rumble rang in his ears. He heard it again, this time louder. What he could only describe as boxes on wheels zoomed by, with people inside. His breathing became heavier. Gripping his forehead, he pinched his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Staggering forwards, he gazed up at the many vertical poles with glowing boxes at their peak. ‘What are they? And how do they glow?’ he wondered.

“Watch where you’re walking?” growled a beige-cloaked woman as she stalked past him.

“Erm, sorry,” he mumbled. “I-”

“Don’t mind her,” said a red-haired guy, who stopped beside him. “Say,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you dressed for Hallowe’en all ready?” He gestured at Orion’s tunic and the hoe.

“Hallow…?” Orion attempted to repeat, but the word baffled his brain and his pronunciation faded. His eyes narrowed and his brow creased.

“Hallowe’en… thirsty-first of October… trick-or-treating… fancy dress…” The red-haired guy gave a sigh, as Orion shook his head, with the creases on his forehead hardening. “You alright?” asked the stranger, noticing Orion’s dripping clothes, heaving chest and continuous puzzled expression.

Parting his lips, Orion stuttered the beginnings of several sentences, before swallowing hard. “I… where am I?”

“Buxtone Park.” Orion’s frown remained; the man’s words meaningless.

“East side of Harrowdun City…”

Looking around at his strange surroundings, Orion shook his head. ‘I know that I have lost my memory once,’ he told himself. ‘But it is not happening again.’ Pinching his eyes shut he clenched his fists and tightened his muscles. He held his breath. He counted to three. He pierced open his eyes. “No!” he breathed. He was still there. The red-haired guy still stood beside him. He pulled at his fringe. Blinking hard he tried to prevent his eyes from leaking. “Wh, wh, what happened t, to my village… the forest… and the orc?”

“Orc?” he laughed, but Orion did not seem to notice.

“I was in the middle of a battle,” Orion explained, staring beyond his converser. His body stiffened. His stomach churned as his sense of fear and determination returned. “The orc, it tricked me, I fell into the river, I-”

“You’re… serious?”

Orion stared at the guy beside him. He did not appear to be that much older than himself. Staring at the stranger’s clothes, Orion mused, ‘Elizabeth would love to see this man’s clothing.’ The man had grey trousers and a matching jacket, but there was no tunic, no tailored patterning at the cuffs or belt at his waist. Instead he wore some kind of white undergarment showing underneath his grey jacket. And there was a black material that knotted and dangled from his neck. Was the material for his master to pull him by? But he did not have the appearance of a slave. His clothes were clean. Orion’s analysis of the man ended as he flinched at the return of the howling sound, as another box with wheel rolled by.

The man beside him smirked. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?” Orion shook his head. “That my friend,” he said gesturing at the moving wheeled box. “Is a car.”

Orion shuddered. “Does it always make that sound?”

“Only when the driver’s got road rage and is trying to skip a red light. The horn’s Doppler effect can be a little disorientating at first,” he said sliding his glasses back up his nose.

“Car? Horn? Doppler…?”

“Don’t worry,” said the man with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.” Orion forced a smile and nodded, unaware of how else to respond. He did not want to get used it. He wanted to return to his village. A nervous laugh escaped his mouth. The guy with red hair smirked again. “I’m Chuck by the way,” he said with a nod. “Do you have a name?”

“Orion.”

“Nice to meet you, Orion.” He held out his hand. Orion shook it. “Arh, so you know how to shake hands.”

Orion swiped his hand away. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No! No!” gasped Chuck, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I was merely stating the facts.” Orion glared at him.

Hearing a ping, Orion’s head sprang up. The contraption above them that had a green glow to it had changed to red. “How did it do that?” he gasped, pointing.

“What?”

“That, up there,” he said eagerly. It pinged again, turning from red, to amber and back to green. “It did it again.”

“That’s a traffic light.”

“How does it change its colour?”

“Electricity,” replied Chuck.

“Elec-what?”

“Electricity,” Chuck repeated. “It’s like a power source.”

“So, it is like the sun?”

“Kind of.”

Chuck examined Orion (as Orion remained staring up at the traffic light), stroking his chin with his index finger. “You know,” he said. “This is fascinating.”

“What is?” shrugged Orion.

“You,” he said gesturing both his hands at Orion. “Something has obviously happened to you. A case of agnosia maybe, or amnesia…”

“No!” The yelp escaped him. He could not help it. “I do not have amnesia – not again. What I have told you… it is the truth. This… this place… these cars, horns and el-ec-tri-city that you speak of… although I can understand you, these words that you use, they are like another language… it is like I am in another world… maybe I am…”

“Orion,” Chuck exclaimed, trying to break him out of his ramblings. “Would you care to join me? I’d like to get you out of those wet clothes and then ask you a few questions, about what you can remember and where you believe you are from.”

 “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“No,” said Chuck, with an elongated vowel sound. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, I’m just so intrigued by the entire situation. I would love to know more about this, this, this experience that you have encountered.” Hesitant, Orion took a step back. “I am a Scientist, you see,” he went on. “And I would love to make note of what has just occurred.”

“Scientist?” Orion repeated, as the creases on his forehead returned.

“Yes, yes. I am very interested in the human brain. It won’t be long. Just a few questions on what you remember, where you’re from, how you got here.”

“Can you help me get back?” he gasped. His eyes widened. His heart pounded.

“Yes,” Chuck replied, crossing his fingers behind his back. “I can attempt.” He gazed at the boy, hoping to gain his trust. “So, what do you say Orion… will you come along?”

Eyes raised and brow puckered, he stared ahead at the man. Did he trust him? He was yet to decide. The one thing he knew was that if this Chuck could help him find his way back home, then he needed to play along. “Okay,” he agreed. Chuck eyes widened and a grin stretched across his face.

“This way,” he said gesturing to the path at his right. As Chuck led the way Orion followed, looking back to the river at the point where he had stumbled upon this peculiar world.

- Josie -

The Fast & The Furious

(Josie Sayz: This is a true story. All of the events took place in the same day. The only works of fiction are the paraphrased conversations. Silly me even kept names in, so if anyone from work is reading, please don’t share this with the office.)

Buzzing clattered across the desk. Arching her head over her shoulder, her heart sank to her stomach as she squinted at the screen. “Carmen calling,” illuminated her phone’s screen. She swallowed a lump in her throat. Prodding her thumb into the screen, she inhaled a shaky breath. “Hello Carmen,” she cheered, forcing herself to smile as she held the phone to her ear.

“Caitlyn!” Carmen screeched down the phone. “Have you finished my copying yet?”

“Not yet,” muttered Caitlyn. Raising her shoulder, she clamped her phone between it and her ear. “I’m still doing it now,” Caitlyn replied, slotting another stack of paperwork into the photocopy feeder.

“Well, I need it now,” Carmen demanded.

“I know,” signed Caitlyn, wrinkling her brow. Forcing another swallow, she jabbed her finger into the buttons on the photocopier. Zipping into the machine’s opening, sheets whizzed out the opposite side. Gathering the copied papers, Caitlyn tapped them together against her desk. Grabbing the stapler, she slid the paperwork inside it and punched her fist to the top. Spinning on her heels, she swiped the original document from the photocopier and shuffled the pages into a neat pile.

“I’ve sent you printing to do too,” Carmen barked in Caitlyn’s ear. Shuddering, the pages slipped from Caitlyn’s hands. “I need it as soon as,” Carmen’s voice rang in Caitlyn’s ear as the pages fluttered to her feet.

“Okay,” Caitlyn mumbled, dropping to her knees. Caitlyn’s hands trembled, as she gathered the cascaded pages.

“You will do it, won’t you?” Carmen snapped.

“Yes Carmen,” breathed Caitlyn, as she clambered to her feet, stretching out for the stapler.

“And I need it immediately,” Carmen’s voice boomed.

“Yes Carmen,” replied Caitlyn. Hearing her phone bleep, as the caller hung up, Caitlyn’s shoulders deflated. Her heart thudded to her stomach. Pinching her thumb and forefinger to her temples, she seeped in a breath.

Dropping the pile of photocopying on the table, her phone’s screen lit up again. Caitlyn’s heart thumped faster. A groan escaped her. Buzzing, her phone danced across the table. She rolled her eyes. With another stack of papers in one hand, Caitlyn grabbed her phone with the other. “Hi Caitlyn; it’s Hannah,” boomed a voice, as Caitlyn shoved her phone between her ear and shoulder.

Sliding more copying into the photocopy feeder, Caitlyn sang, “Hi Hannah,” bearing a big smile.

“Listen,” Hannah snapped. “We need you to pop down to our block and do some scanning.”

“Okay,” replied Caitlyn, feeling the lump return to her throat.

“It’s urgent,” Hannah warned.

“Okay,” Caitlyn squeaked. The creases on her forehead deepened. The rapping in her ribcage raced. “I’m just finishing Carmen’s copying,” explained Caitlyn, feeling her throat close tighter. Her palms dampened. “I have to print something for her too.” Her intestines spiralled. “Then I’ll run down to you.”

“It is urgent.”

“I know,” murmured Caitlyn as her brows slanted together. Forcing another swallow, Caitlyn assured, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

*

Racing through the door, Caitlyn’s feet halted as she stepped outside. She closed her eyes. She seeped in a long, slow breath. Her shoulders relaxed. Her racing heart slowed. Fluttering her eyes open, Caitlyn slid her thumb underneath the strap of her bag and strode up the driveway. ‘Home time,’ she hummed to herself, as the corner of her mouth prodded up. Leaving the office behind her, she placed on foot in front of the other. Turning left, she made her way down the hill, towards the hum of traffic. ‘No more madness today,’ she grinned.

Vibration buzzed. Caitlyn gave a sharp sniff, as her eyes widened. Rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out her phone. Swiping her thumb across the screen, a message appeared from her mum. “Caitlyn, can pick up cheese and butter on your way home? Better get a four pint of milk too.” Rolling her eyes, Caitlyn groaned.

‘Sure,’ she muttered to herself. ‘It’s not like I’ve been at work all day. It’s not like any of that stuff’s heavy at all.’ Stuffing her phone back into her bag, Caitlyn sighed. Spinning on her heels, she trudged back up the hill.

Wandering around the supermarket, Caitlyn lowered her head. With her basket gripped tight, she pressed her arms into her sides. Thud! Something barged into her side. Staggering forwards, she flung her arms out in front of her. A round man bumbled past her, racing to the chilled ready meals. Squeezing a hand to her arm, Caitlyn winced, as she glared after the man. Elbowing his way through the crowd that had gathered, the man fought his way to the front. ‘What’s his problem?’ Caitlyn scorned. She sniffed, scrunching her nose up at him.

Reaching the dairy aisle, Caitlyn’s eyes skimmed the items on the shelves. Nearing butterscotch blur of cheese blocks, Caitlyn curled a hand to her chin. Her foot tapped as she hummed to herself. Caitlyn’s eyes flickered from left to right, examining the size, price and strength of the cheeses before her. Deciding upon one, she stretched her arm out, pressing herself up on her toes. A hand whacked hers out of the way. “Quick!” she heard a lady gasp from behind. “Grab one would ya!” the woman barked to her male companion. Ignoring Caitlyn’s existence, the man trampled on her foot, pushing her out of the way as he nabbed a block of cheese. Her eyes snapped closed. Sniffing, she held her breath. Her arms froze at her sides. Her pulse pounded at her temples.

Stooping, Caitlyn lowered her head, keeping her eyes glued to the floor as she traversed around the rest of the shop. Grabbing everything on her mother’s list, she shuffled towards the queue at the cash register. A lump lodged into her throat, as she stepped in line. Having placed her groceries on the conveyor belt, Caitlyn shuffled closer to the couple in front. Slipping her hand into her bag, she rummaged around for her purse. Thud! Her heart leapt, as she was jabbed in the back. Thud! Something whacked her again. Sidestepping, Caitlyn prodded her head over her shoulder. A child bounced from the shopping trolley behind her, to the conveyor belt, throwing groceries onto it, crashing into Caitlyn. “Excuse me!” roared the woman, manning the trolley. “You’re in my son’s way.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Caitlyn stuttered, wide eyed at the woman, as she hugged her bag to her chest. “I can’t move over anymore,” Caitlyn warned her, as she pressed herself up against the neighbouring till.

“You’re in his way,” the woman barked again, as her son leapt from the shopping trolley, with his arms flapping at his sides. Slapping Caitlyn out of the way, the boy skipped back and forth from the conveyor belt to his mother’s trolley. Taking in a shaky breath, Caitlyn felt her throat close tighter. She sniffed. Pinching her eyes tight, she squeezed her arms into her sides and leant closer to the customer in front of her.

*

With her shopping bag tugging on her arm, Caitlyn sniffed as she plodded. Trudging past a bus stop, she glanced up at the congregated crowd. ‘A bus must be due,’ she realised, arching her head behind her. The road was empty. ‘Either that or everyone just missed the previous one.’ Pain stabbed in her right shoulder blade. Seeping a breath through gritted teeth, she winced. A groan escaped her. Nearing the bus stop, Caitlin glanced at the timetable. ‘I’m not waiting twenty minutes, if I’ve just missed one,’ she grumbled. Her eyes widened. The bus was due at any minute. ‘Don’t be lazy,’ Caitlyn scorned herself. ‘You never get the bus.’ Heaving her shopping bag onto her shoulder, the pain shot down her arm. Her eyes snapped shut. ‘Okay…’ she caved. ‘Maybe I can get the bus, this once,’ she reasoned. ‘It’ll be my treat for getting through this demanding, stressy day.’

Arching her head over her shoulder, a smile prodded into the corner of her mouth as the bus peered around the corner. As it rolled into the loading bay, Caitlyn lingered behind the last in the queue, keeping her distance. Fumbling with her purse, she scraped together some change and hopped on the bus.

Dropping into a seat, Caitlyn’s shoulders drooped. She exhaled a long, slow breath, pressing her head against the window. Flickering her eyes closed, the racing in her chest slowed. The rhythmical thu-thud, thu-thud of the chugging engine brought a comforting hum to her, as she hugged her arms around herself. Thu-thud, thu-thud. The bus accelerated. Thu-thud, thu-thud, thu-thud. Chatter melted away in the background. Thu-thud, thu-thud. The pounding in her temples eased. Thu-thud, thu-thud. Her mind began to drift.

Crack! She jolted forwards. Thump! Her heart crashed into her ribcage. The bus halted. Snapping her eyes open, Caitlyn threw her head in the driver’s direction. He leapt up out of his chair.  Swinging open his compartment door, the driver cursed. She held her breath. Clawing his hand through his hair, the driver cursed three more times. Passengers murmured beside her. Stretching her neck up, she strained, trying to see what was happening. A woman stomped towards the bus, jabbing a finger at the driver. Caitlyn’s heart sank to her stomach. The driver leapt out of the bus.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” the woman screeched at him. “The light’s on red!” she yelled, swinging her finger towards the traffic lights.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice wavering.

“Sorry? Sorry?” she raged. “You coulda-” The conversation muffled, as the driver punched his fist into a button on the side of the bus, swinging the doors closed.

“He crashed her car?!” one passenger cried.

“He totalled it!” exclaimed another.

Flopping her head against the window, Caitlyn groaned. ‘Seriously?!’ she raged. ‘The one day I decide to get the bus.’

Flickering her sight towards the driver outside, he had moved away from the woman who had been ranting at him. Stood in a nearby front garden, he knelt to the ground, muttering to himself. The woman paced up and down, from her car to the bus and back again, talking on her phone the entire time. Chatter murmured in waves. “It’s road rage,” Caitlyn heard the man behind her mutter. “He was driving too fast; not looking where he was going. Now look,” he sighed, “I coulda walked home faster.” Humming to herself, Caitlyn agreed with him.

Fiddling with the strap of her bag and her shopping, Caitlyn straightened her back. Looping her bags back onto her shoulder, Caitlyn stared ahead at the door. Her heart dropped to her stomach. ‘We’re locked in,’ Caitlyn realised, recalling the driver slamming the doors closed to mute his conversation. Her eyes shifted to the people around her. Everyone was glued to their phone.

Throwing her attention to the front of the bus, Caitlyn squinted, as she watched the bus driver and the woman from the car in front scribbling things down on pads of paper. ‘Probably exchanging details,’ Caitlyn realised. Rolling her eyes, she flopped back in her seat. Gazing out of the window on the bus’ opposite side, she sighed at all of the cars that passed by. A double toot hooted at them. A chorus of groans sounded out amongst the passengers, as the next bus overtook them. Sinking into her seat, Caitlyn shook her head. ‘Twenty minutes?!’ she fumed. ‘We’ve been trapped here for twenty minutes.’

Insync with her exclamation, the driver returned. Opening the door, he announced, “Everybody off.” Groans, grumbles and sighs echoed throughout the bus. As people rose their voices to whine, complain and argue, Caitlyn lowered her head. Shuffling out of the bus, she escaped the bumbling brawl.

Trudging up the road, Caitlyn looped her thumb around her bags. ‘What a day,’ she sighed, shaking her head. ‘Everybody needs to slow down.’ Plodding one foot in front of the other, Caitlyn trudged on, past the bustling business and madness of demanding and dashing people.

- Josie -