Worlds Together

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Despite insisting that I want to talk in the gold fields, with the fresh air and less people able to listen in, Kale made it quite clear that I'm to stay exactly where I am. So here I am, tucked up in bed, following orders like a good little girl. Now that I’ve tasted life outside the stuffy buildings I grew up in, I'm loathed to spend any more time cooped up in bed like this. I want to be outside, helping the workers, or running. And instead, I'm just lying here. Waiting.

I stop moaning and feeling sorry for myself at the sound of approaching footsteps and, more importantly, voices. Sadly, they’re too hushed (and muffled by the dividing wall) for me to hear more than a fear words. ‘Hurt’ is one of them, ‘and’ is another, ‘the’ is in there somewhere, and I'm pretty sure my name is mentioned too. Not helpful, I know. I’ll just have to take things as they come.

The door swings open and my eyes flick from the wall to the door, and more importantly to the figure standing in the doorway. Jem. My Jem. While I stare at him, I think he manages to look at everything in the room except me, his eyes coming to rest on the floor-space next to the bed. This is the point at which Kale decides to make an appearance, stepping out of the shadows into the space behind Jem. With a hard shove that sends Jem stumbling into the room, Kale grunts “talk,” and slams the door.

He finally looks in my eyes, and I feel my eyes filling up again. It’s pretty obvious that we both know we need to talk, but it’s also obvious that neither of us know what to say, how to start the ball rolling. In the end I decide I have to say something, if only to break the ice. “Look, Jem-” I begin, but he cuts me off, which annoys me more than it should.

“No, Bex. I need to talk. I need to explain. This is my chance to explain everything. Let me?” He ends with the simple question, and I nod mutely, as desperate to hear what he has to say as he is to say it. “I guess I'm gonna start from the beginning.” It’s only at this point that I begin to hear the telltale twang in his voice, the accent that I’ve only ever heard in residents of this world. It feels like it’s taunting me, jibing with every word that comes from his mouth. The annoyance and irritation is growing inside me, and I hope that I can keep it there until he’s finished. “Ten years ago, I was fourteen years old. I was young, and I’d always wanted to be respected, you know? To have done something to contribute to the community. To get my name known for all the right reasons.

“For years they’d been sending me out for pretty long periods of time, into the other world, your world, to get me used to it, and I’d never known why. I think it’s fair to assume that this plan had been formulating for quite some time, but who would be the ‘victim’ wasn’t finalised until just before I was sent out.” I flinch at the word victim, they way it makes him sound like a hired assassin. “They needed a story-teller, a teacher. Someone who could educate people from the other side about our world, and about their own world – teach them all the stuff they don’t know and reteach them a lot of the stuff they thought they did know. Half the stuff they teach kids there is complete nonsense, and they thought: if we can bring ‘one of them’ over, teach them our stuff, then bring more of ‘them’ over, maybe ‘they’ would be more willing to be taught by someone from their side!” Shock crosses my features before I can stop it – he knows full well that I was one of the teachers preaching the ‘nonsense’ he’s talking about. Still, I hold my tongue, not wanting to interrupt his speech. “They needed someone close to my age that I could ‘befriend’,” this word makes me wince, the way it makes everything sound so cold, emotionless, “and gain the trust of. And the person they chose was you.

 “So they sent me over there permanently. They taught me as much as they could about your ways, and even squeezed me into a house near yours so I’d be more likely to bump into you ‘by accident’. And sure enough, I did. Sure, you thought I was a little weird at first, because I didn’t understand some of the things I should’ve, but I soon got used to things, and you got used to my occasional slipups. And so it continued. I would be instructed by a kind of mentor from my world that would come over and take updates, and give me advice. I was thrilled – I was quickly climbing my way up in the community, and successfully fulfilling a mission. It was what I’d always dreamed of, and everything was perfect.”