Birth of a Time Lady

Connection

She watched out the window as the two caretakers assigned to her dormitory returned from the barn, without the boy. He had slipped off again in the middle of the night, apparently terrified at some inexplicable thing. By the looks of things, they had failed to convince him to return with them. They wouldn't like her being awake either; hence why she was staying hidden by the curtain as she spied on them.

She really felt bad for him. She had seen the same things he had, in what the adults liked to call the time vortex. He had every right to be afraid of it, and she couldn't blame him for being haunted by it. But the other children mocked him for his fear. Had they forgotten what it looked like, or did they not understand? Perhaps they just lacked the pity and empathy she had for him. Whatever the case, she didn't like the idea of him being left alone.

The girl waited, feigning sleep in her bunk, until the caretakers passed her room. Then she crept to the door, waiting for the telltale clicking sound of their office door closing. Once she heard it, she slipped through the door and made her way down the corridor. By now she knew which floorboards creaked when trod upon, and was able to step carefully enough to avoid making noise.

Time was of the essence here, so she didn't bother stopping to get a coat or shoes. It was a warm night anyway, so she was able to slip outside in her nightie without being too uncomfortable.

It had rained a day or so ago, and the ground was soft, but not muddy. Her footprints made almost no noise in the soil as she trotted towards the barn. That was good. It left less chance of her being noticed, after all.

It took her many minutes of navigating in the dark before she was certain it was the barn she was heading to, and not some dune or orchard. She finally came up to the door, leaning in close and running a hand over the latch. It was secured, so she'd have to undo it to enter. She hesitated. It was her last chance to turn back and slip into bed before committing to an intervention.

Well, she had never been one to shy from somebody in need. She undid the latch with a gentle click and slipped inside, quickly closing it behind her.

The boy had apparently been reclining on the makeshift cot in the loft, because he scrambled and tried to duck behind it, as if to hide. He stopped when he saw who it was entering his sanctuary. Straightening up again, he simply watched the girl as she approached the little ladder. It was made like a set of stairs and would be easy enough for her to climb.

She, in turn, glanced up at him as she paused at the bottom. "Can I come up?" When he gave her a nod, she started climbing, and in a few more minutes, she was trying to pull herself up onto the loft floor. There was nothing for her to grip at the top, so she was struggling slightly, trying to find a handhold in the boards and failing.

To her surprise, the boy actually came over and knelt in front of her. He always kept to himself, and she never knew him to be the type to approach another student unless required to do so. He offered a hand to pull her up, and although she didn't know what to make of his gesture, she accepted the hand.

They were both sitting on the loft floor now, and she found herself uncertain what to say to him. He bridged the gap for her in the end, by telling her why he was up there to begin with. "I was having bad dreams."

She titled her head at him, curious now. "Dreams are just dreams. They can't hurt you."

"I know," he told her, refusing to look at her. "But I was afraid. I shouldn't have been, but I was."

That made her ache. She was tired of the other children trying to stomp his fear out of him. They were all foolish for not recognizing fear for what it was: a reaction to danger, the kind that pushed you to save yourself from harm. It was natural, and more importantly, it was essential.

"Good," she told him. "At least there's one other person making sense here."

"That's not what they said," he muttered, apparently referring to the caretakers.

"Then they're not half as bright as they think they are." Her own words surprised her, but she continued. "I mean... just because you're scared now, doesn't mean you won't amount to anything"

His head pivoted towards her, and he blinked a few times, clearly caught off guard. But the tension in his shoulders relaxed, and his tone became less guarded. "Someday I want to travel. I want to get my own ship and go from planet to planet, and do whatever I please."

She resettled in her position, crossing her legs as if getting ready to hear a story. "Where will you start?"

"See that?" he asked, pointing through a gap in the roof towards a gleaming star. "I'll go there first. I don't even know what might be in that system. Maybe I'll discover a lost civilization or something." He was getting mildly excited now, glad to have a sympathetic audience. "You never know what could happen. I like to think the universe is full of wonders."

She smiled, pleased to hear him talking like this. He was never this open at school. His thoughts were grand ones, and she liked hearing them. "Yeah. Me too."

They talked like that half the night, and in the end, she convinced him to creep back into the dormitory. They both scuttled off to bed that night a little more at peace with themselves. The caretakers were never the wiser.