Chapter 10: Chapter 8 – Meeting Harper

The following day when I walked into the kitchen, Martha was cooking another large breakfast.  I was getting used to this.  It was always cereal or pop tarts for me at home.  Nothing like the home-cooked meals Martha had made.  I was liking it here.    

But I was also anxious and nervous. 

Harper would be back today. Then, I could get some answers, find out what the hell was happening around here, find out where my brother was – whether he was alive or dead - and find out if there was a way home. 

Martha had already told me it would be around noon before Harper returned.  I had waited a day and a half already. A few hours more wasn’t going to kill me.  But it felt like they would.  This was going to be the longest morning of my life. 

Luckily I would at least get to spend it with Martha. 

She didn’t say much about the night before, and I didn’t either.  There wasn’t much point.  It had happened; now it was over, and we would be moving on.  I tried not to think about how sad I would be when I left her.  Because I had to leave.  I couldn’t stay. 

My thoughts turned to Charlie and my parents.  They would be sick with worry.  Or worse.  By now, Charlie had shown them the stairs – and maybe they - or the cops had gone down those stairs and were out there right now, on The Glowing Grasslands, maybe encountering god knows what.  Men with guns could be coming right now.  And they’d shoot first and ask questions later.  I thought of Cythyne and shuddered at the thought of some cop shooting her at first sight.

How was all of this even possible?  What kind of place was this? First, I had to find everyone. Then we had to get back and figure out a way to permanently close off whatever wormhole that staircase held that led to this place. 

But that was for later.  There was nothing I could do about it now.  I just had to get through the next few hours and get some answers from Harper. 

When Martha was done cooking, we ate silently, exchanging a few nervous smiles but not saying much.  I’d never done the morning-after thing before, and it was awkward as hell.  After we finished breakfast, Martha asked me to help her with a few things around the place again.  I agreed, hoping it would pass the time. 

She’d loaned me some of her husband’s old clothes, washed mine, and set them out on the line to dry while we worked. 

The time passed agonizingly slowly, and all I could think about while working was the questions I would ask Harper and the thousands of possible answers she could give me, most of them not good. 

Around noon, when I’d finally gotten into a grove and out of my head and was singing some songs to myself to keep my mind busy, Martha called to me. 

“I see her, Jack!” Martha was pointing up the dirt road, and there in the distance, was a small wagon being pulled by a mule coming this way.  I dropped the shovel I had been using to dig a new garden bed for Martha and ran to the fence. 

Martha followed behind me and put her hand on my shoulder.  “She’ll be here soon.” 

I was sweaty and stinky, but I didn’t care.  I couldn’t wait to see her.  Was she going to even know who I was?  I think she’d come around once or twice with Lucas and Sarah Beth, but I had been thirteen and not really paying attention. 

The wagon got closer, and I saw a young girl driving it. 

She pulled up to the fence, and I had the overwhelming urge to run to her and pick her up and bombard her with all my questions. Instead, Martha gently squeezed my shoulder. 

Harper looked curiously at us and said, “Martha, who is this?” 

She had brown hair and brown eyes and didn’t look much older than the day she’d gone missing.  Certainly not five years older, I thought, but what did I know?  She looked like she’d stepped out of all those pictures her family had shown so many times and right into the day we were in now. 

She got down from the wagon and smiled at me.  “Hello,” she said, cutting her eyes toward Martha.  “Who is this?” she asked again, a bit more nervously.  I realized I’d been staring at her the whole time.

“Harper,” Martha said, “come inside.  We need to talk.” 

That sounded ominous.  Martha led us inside, and Harper’s body language grew more apprehensive with every step.  When we were inside Martha sat us both down on the couch and said, “Harper, this is Jack.  He’s from your world.  He’s got a lot of questions.” 

Then Martha turned around, went into the kitchen, and started filling a teapot with water from her pump.

Harper’s mouth fell open.  “You’re from wh… where…” she stammered. 

It all came pouring out of me so quickly that I couldn’t stop it.  “Harper, I’m Jack.  I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Lucas’s younger brother.  I was thirteen when you guys disappeared.  I need to know where he is and how we can get home.  Where’s Sarah Beth?  Where’s Michael?  We need to get them and get home and close those stairs before anyone else comes here.  It might be too late; Charlie, that’s Michael’s brother, was supposed to go tell my parents where I went.  I’m sure they went to the police.  There may be cops already here.  We need to get everyone and find a way home.  Is there a way home?” 

She looked at me, her mouth still open. 

“Slow down, Jack,” Martha said as she handed us each a cup of tea.  She took Harper’s hand.  “Harper, honey, breathe, just breathe.  I know it’s a lot but take your time.” 

Martha patted me.  “Give her some time, Jack.” 

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I tried.  I tried not to say anything else.  A couple of minutes went by.  I wanted to scream, yell, and tell her to say something, but I had to keep it under control. 

Finally, she said, “You’re Lucas’s little brother?” 

I wasn’t that little, but whatever.  “Yes,” I said. 

“And you’re here?” she said. 

“Yes.” 

“How?” she said. 

I needed to go slow.  “I came down the steps.  The ones you guys came down.  I found Lucas’s bag and assumed you guys went down them too.” 

First, she nodded, then shook her head.  “It wasn’t steps for us…”

“What?” 

She looked at me now, for the first time, and I could see in her face and eyes her pushing her shock aside.  “It wasn’t steps for us.  It was like a tunnel or a cave.  The guys wanted to explore it, see if there were bats or something inside.  But we realized later it was calling to all of us.  I think it becomes whatever it needs to be to get you inside.” 

I shook my head.  “What the fuck are you talking about?  It was steps.  I found the bag.” 

My foul language didn’t shock her, but I heard Martha quietly scold me from the kitchen. 

Harper put her tea down and turned toward me, serious now, all of her initial shock gone.  “We’ll get to that later. It doesn’t matter.”  She reached for me and put her hand on my cheek.  “Little Jack?  Is it really you?”  She looked questioningly at me.  “You’re older than thirteen.  Which means time has passed.  A lot of time.  Lucas used to talk about you all the time when we were all together.  He missed you so much.”  I could see her eyes welling with tears.  “We all missed our families so much.”  A tear ran down her face.  “How old are you?  How long have we been gone?” 

“I… uh…”  I noticed again she didn’t look a day over eighteen. Instead, she looked exactly like she had the day they’d gone missing. 

“How long have you been here?” I asked her. 

She shook her head.  “I don’t know.  Time is weird here.  The days go by but… It’s just weird.  How long, Jack?” 

I swallowed the lump in my throat.  “Five years.” 

She put her face in her hands.  “Oh god.  Five years?  My parents?  My sisters?  They think we’re…”  She couldn’t finish, couldn’t say the word dead.

“Yes,” I said quietly.  “But… We can go back!  Can’t we?  We can get out of here?” 

She shook her head.  “I don’t know.  We were trying before… Before everything happened.  But after everything happened, I ended up here and… Lucas and Sarah Beth…”

“What happened to them?” I asked.  “Where are they?”

She started to cry.

I wrapped my arms around her and patted her back like she was a child.  I couldn’t imagine the emotions she was experiencing right now. 

After a few minutes, she calmed down and got herself under control.  She hiccupped a few times, then wiped her eyes. 

“I don’t know where they are,” she said.  “Or if they’re even alive.  And now you’re stuck here, too.” She started to break down again.  “What are we going to do?”  

I was stunned.  But why was I surprised?  Harper was here, and they weren’t.  Of course, she didn’t know if they were alive or dead or where they were.  If she did, she would be with them, wouldn’t she?

“Harper, what happened?” 

She shook her head.  “Michael happened.”  Our eyes met.  “It was all Michael.” 

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