Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter Twenty-One: The Broken

"Hello, Mister Galloway!" chimed a happy, feminine voice.

The old librarian looked up from his reception computer. Before him stood a fourteen year old girl with long, strawberry blonde hair wearing a loose fitting yellow sundress for the hot summer weather outside.

"Stella Barber! Nice to see you again!" the old man exclaimed excitedly. He had not had much visitors in the library ever since smartphones were popularized. To the girl's side was a gloomy redhead in a white shirt and black jeans ensemble. "And the elusive Timothy Kleve! What a treat!"

From behind the girl, a third teen stepped out. With hair of snow white and skin of dark, he wore a cooling white singlet and pair of shorts.

Galloway clapped his hands together in surprise. "And Clay Barber! Wow! Everyone is here. Such a rare honour."

Clay smiled and waved sheepishly. "Hello, Mister Galloway. We've got summer homework."

"Oh, and what kind of fascinating homework would bring you to a library?" The man replied with a sarcastic joke of a tone.

Seemingly having not picked up the tune, Stella happily answered, "We were asked to write a short story about an alternate universe for English Literature Class. Do you have any nice fantasy books we can take as reference?"

Galloway chuckled back. Turning to his computer, he quickly searched through the database of books. "You three are really taking this seriously."

Simultaneously, Tim and Clay replied, "I'm not."

The old man smiled. "Well, it's good to see all three of you together again." He printed out the search result and handed them the paper of the selection of books. "Let me know once you're done. We can go for some ice-cream later, my treat."

Stella took the paper off his hands, cheerfully replying, "Thanks, Mister Galloway, for everything!"

The trio walked off into the library, chattering about their assignment, the morale for defying the normal gloominess of homework kept high by Stella's constant intractable spirit.

Once they were out of earshot, Galloway mumbled to himself, "It's the least I could do." His lips sloped into a frown.

***

The sound of explosions and gunfire continued to ring in his ears. Panting, sweating, eyes staring up at the star littered sky, The Watcher waited patiently for the all too familiar beat of his heart to calm. Light flickered against the edges of his nose and he turned his head to see the campfire still going strong. It was his last camp site before reaching the town of Muscoh where Stella Barber resided, the child whose name and apparent knowledge was shared with a similar person from his world.

A noise drew his attention and he turned to the sound of shuffling. Though he was alone when he went to sleep, that was no longer the case. Sitting beside the flame was a boy no older than ten, with a buzzcut hair of snow white and dark ebony skin that blended with the night. He poked at the fire with a stick. A country boy wearing rural white singlet and patched brown pants, he had the tired eyes of an old man that screamed anachronism from the rest of his body.

The boy said, "It's the dreams, isn't it? Don't worry, I used to think they were freaky too. But I got used to it." He readjusted his seating, bringing a knee up to his chin to hug. He started explaining, "It's the Peninsula. That's the name for the outer shell of the universe. On Earth, we know that as the dream world. Here, it's not a stable place so we can only dream of things we know. Our past, mostly."

Slowly, The Watcher sat up from the cold, hard ground. Looking around, there was no one else he could see within the reach of the light. To the east, faint sound of waves came from the far off shoreline, sea breeze carrying the faint waft of the ocean. The wispy light of the town of Muscoh was a day of riding away. His horse, a brown steed, was lying asleep on the ground not far from them. Tied to the lone tree they were under was the newcomer's black and white.