When The Lost Are Found

The Lost

It felt like a long time since she'd been there. She walked up the street behind the church, followed the path, walked up the stairs, turned left and went behind the apartment building. She came to the set of stairs on her right, diverging the paths, and stood looking up into the park. Pulling her phone out she paused the music, took off her headphones and was assaulted by the sounds of the city behind her. The pedestrian crossing at the traffic lights beeped steadily, cars revved, braked and honked their horns, people's voices floated up to her. But over it all, she heard the birds in the park. She soaked it in, then braced herself and took the stairs. She hesitated at the top for the briefest moment, knowing what was to come, and closing her eyes stepped onto the grass.

But the silence didn't come, the smells didn't change. It hadn't worked. "Why didn't it work? I need it more now than I did last time. Why can't I get there?" she thought to herself. She trudged to the bench and threw herself onto it, put her headphones back on and blocked the world out again. Pushing play, she put her head back and let her tears fall. The years of pain overwhelmed her, she didn't know how to handle it anymore, what to do about it. Nothing was working and everything was getting worse. She had lost track of the tears she'd shed, just like she lost track of the time now. But when this lot finally dried, the sky was dark and she could see the stars. She took time to collect herself, picked up her bag and her crutch and left the park.

She followed the path she had taken back down to the street. Instead of turning toward the train station, she headed toward the main strip. Being a week night, she knew there would be some quiet bars where she could go and not be surrounded by people. She found one about three quarters of the way down that only had a couple of people in it and went in. She went to the bar and ordered and then found a small table in the back corner. She settled in and stared at her whiskey as the tears threatened to come again. Blinking them back, she took a sip and felt the spirit's heat wash down her throat and hit her stomach. She looked around the bar as she felt a prickle at the back of her neck. Some guy at a nearby table had his hood up and seemed to be looking at her. She ignored him and went back to staring at the table and sipping her drink. She needed to use the bathroom but didn't want to leave her drink unattended or take it with her, so she chugged the rest of it and got up, taking her things with her.

When she came back, the guy from earlier was sitting at her table. She ignored him again and went to the bar to get another drink. She turned around to find somewhere else to sit, but this time it couldn't be denied. He was definitely staring at her. "Screw this," she thought to herself, and instead slid onto the nearest bar stool, figuring it was better to stay near the staff, just in case. She angled herself to keep him on the edge of her periphery, ignoring him but still intensely aware of him. She saw him grin and stretch and then get up. He walked in front of her as he too came to the bar. The bartender came over and served him, then went back to drying and polishing glasses. But he didn't go back to the table. Instead, he turned towards her, grinned again and slid onto a nearby stool. "Hi," he said happily. But she said nothing and narrowed her eyes at him, then pretended to check her phone. "You must be Stitch," he tried again. She jumped at the sound of her name and her eyes shot upwards, connecting with his. His eyes were flecked with gold, warm and inviting, and his grin stretched from ear to ear. "Sorry to startle you," he told her. "What makes you think I am who you say I am?" she asked him snidely. "We have a mutual friend," he replied, "I've heard a lot about you. He wasn't able to make it today, and he knew I was close by, so he asked me to come and check on you." "I didn't have plans to meet anyone today. Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else," she said as she tried to gather her things to go. "You didn't plan to meet him," the guy tried again, softening his voice and reaching out towards her. She quickly grabbed her crutch up and pushed the bottom of it into his chest. "Any closer, and I'll have the staff throw you out," she told him with ice in her voice. This had gotten the bartender's attention and they started heading back over. The hooded guy threw his hands up and laughed. "Zyggy told me you're pretty quick with that thing. I guess I should have taken him more seriously." "How do you know Zyggy?" she asked. He laughed again. "You'd think after all this time, I would have learnt to introduce myself sooner. Hi, I'm Munk." "Munk? As in..." "Yeah, that's me. Zyggy heard you, but he's with someone else at the moment, so he asked me to swing by." "But how did you know I would come here?" "Zyg told you that you and I are a lot alike. It's the same thing I would have done. He wanted us to meet ages ago, but you kept calling him too close to a full moon. So I could never make it." "Huh. I never noticed. But." She looked around and saw that the bartender had left them alone, but was still watching from the other end of the bar. She gave him a small nod and smile, letting him know that everything was ok. Lowering her voice she asked, "But why couldn't I get into the forest this time? Do you know?" "Sorry, no clue," Munk replied, " Ask Zyg next time you see him, him or DZ should know. Anyway, next round's on me. What do you say?" "Sounds like a plan, Munk. Thank you."

They sat at the table and drank for a couple of hours, getting to know each other better.  Suddenly, Stitch doubled over, holding her stomach and trying not to let the pain show. "You ok?" Munk asked, " too much to drink? Oh no, please don't tell me you're about to be sick." Stitch grimaced and shook her head no, trying to breathe through the pain. After a couple of minutes, she breathed easier and sat a little straighter. "No," she told him, "just a daily occurrence. Sometimes more than that. I think I need to get going. In case it gets really bad." "If that's not really bad..." Munk trailed off. Stitch smiled thinly at him. "I have an idea," Munk said quickly. "I can't," Stitch told him sadly, "I need to get home." "Exactly, but better than home. It won't fix you, but it can help to ease the pain. Come with me," Munk was getting more and more excited. It was infectious, but Stitch wouldn't let herself be pulled into it. "Sorry Munk, I need to go. Don't worry, I can catch a cab to the station." "I can take you there," Munk said suddenly. "Take me home? That's sweet Munk, but I'll be ok." "Not to your home. To theirs. To Zyggy and DZ's. Human pain doesn't work the same way there. Not from illnesses, anyway. It won't cure you, but you'll feel better. I can take you." Munk was talking so fast that Stitch could barely follow what he was saying. "That's sweet of you Munk, but I can't just turn up on their doorstep. Besides, the forest wouldn't open for me. I can't get there." "No, not the forest. That's Dyrk's forest anyway. Ishness." The grin on his face spread somehow wider. "I can take you to Ishness." "What? How? I thought..." Her voice faded away. Munk reached out and took her hand. "It's ok," he told her, finally calming himself. "It's where I go when I can't be here. I know the ways through. I can take you with me. Like I said, it won't heal you, but it will help you. Just say the word, and I'll take you away." "I... I don't know," Stitch said at last, "there's so much here for me still. My family, my friends. I can't just leave them." Munk leant over and hugged her. "It's ok," he whispered as he stroked her hair, "I understand. You can still come back here. Whenever you want. I never said it was a one way ticket. Once you know the way there, you'll know the way back. Live there with us. You can visit here whenever you want."  Stitch pulled back and looked into his eyes. She smiled a small smile. She reached out and put her hand in his. "Take me home Munk." Munk collected their things and pulled Stitch gently to her feet. He put her arm around his shoulder and his around her waist and they headed slowly towards the door. Towards Ishness. Towards home.