Northern Downpour

The Open Gates (XVI)

XVI

It had become different. The trees were dead. They were far more than just dead. They arrayed at the sides of the path, which obstructed the scene beyond the trees, but they both did not know that it was just nothingness, and nothing more. They were silent whilst walking. They never really talked about anything until they have reached four-hundred yards. They stopped. Looked upon one another, and Jack uttered:

“Why?”

“Look,” replied Micael. He was surprised because of what he had seen. His eyes had dilated and the way he stood made Jack wonder, for Micael knew that he would be surprised as well, and then he swerved his head indefinitely, and looked at where Micael was looking. It was covered with fog, but it faded slowly. It was dark. Very dark. But the waning moon had managed to provide them sufficient light to see. Their eyes both dilated, and the fog moved. It was a bridge made of concrete and steel. It looked like it had been built 300 years ago and it still stood like one war veteran after thousands of wars. But it was obscure. Not because it was made of steel and concrete nor it was sitting in the middle of nothingness but because the pavement was colored. It was tan in color. More obscure was that there were no streetlamps at all, but they both knew they had to continue.

“It is dark, Jack. We might find ourselves dead when we fall,” said Micael, and he was quite scared. “There is no need to be scared, my child,” followed spring-heeled Jack, and he grabbed something on his shoulder bag. And before Micael’s eyes were glowsticks which had sprung from Jack's dingy shoulder bag with its lace resting just above one of his shoulders. Jack handed one glowstick to Micael and they both bent the glowticks with their forearms, one after the another, and it cracked gas and it lit. It was white and had illuminated brightly, which was among what was alight: The moon and Jack’s very eyes. They continued walking carefully, looked at the crevices of the bridge and both of them stayed vigilant.

Micael uttered: “Why did you come back?” and picked up a stone to throw past the bridge’ side. Jack did not reply, at first, and Micael threw the stone. It was building velocity and force, and then Jack replied: “I was never without you, Aleck. I just chose to be silent, and waited awhile to think of a symbol. A symbol of which you will never forget. And that symbol is EIGHTEEN, and soon, you will know what the symbol means, for the both of us,” and there was a splash, giving them the quite answer that what was below the tan bridge was a river, but no one was bold enough to even have a peek.

They continued to walk carefully while gathering up some pace. One step over another were potholes filled with liquid Micael couldn't and he had only let his eyes what could he see; he never bothered. After Micael's twentieth step, he quickly took a glance into the path beyond them where trees had set themselves in array after another. Some were bent obscurely while others stood trunk-strong. He was dazed, but the trees never changed beyond the tan bridge. They were still dead, but yet in posture. Both of them never knew why, then Micael again asked unwillingly: “Why did you scare me last a time?”

“I did not scare you, Aleck. I did only enlighten you. Have you known my power since?” he asked while fixing his mask and his clothes. His holster where a bit heavy and the guns and blades were clanging upon one another, of which both of them were completely aware of, but none of them was even bothered by even a bit, and they continued. “What power?” “You see, Aleck, I can induce you sleep, please myself to be with you, and even teleport you all the way to the elegant Cosmos. I am as powerful as a king being drawn by his enemies with dull blades but I am as weak as a lamb’s carcass without you being my home and my chalice. You have become the utter fountain of my very being and the gunpowder of my blades. I have never thought of scaring you. You were just incapable enough of understanding my well-being, Aleck, that’s why I accepted your chant, and here we have been led by our mischief.”

Micael was speechless. He never knew that Jack was never an enemy at all, but he knew it was more than just that. “I am more than just a friend, Aleck, for I am you and you are me.  The only thing we have to overcome is to think that I am not your nightmare and to accept that you are truly not part of my body.” They have walked a quite one-hundred yards while they were talking, and then they saw a handcar on the side of the tracks, where the dead trees have ceased to exist.

“Where do you think this handcar will lead us?”

“It might lead us to the open gates much faster,” and then both of them decided to get on the handcar. The walked towards to rusty handcar's whereabouts and Micael rushed into the anterior side while Jack walked calmly into the posterior side (which was nearer). They could see from both their eyes that the handcar was never used and the handles of it had vanished; only the straight rusty portion of metal was there, and both of them thought it was adequate to make it move forward, and they stepped on the handcar. The handcar uttered a pale squeak after Micael and Jack but none of them listened to it; they just went on for themselves and nothing more.

After the handcar's whimper, it became quiet and the shouts of the wind splashing into the face of the alive was the only noise to be heard.

Micael stood on the other side while Jack stood on the other. They placed both of their hands on the rusty bar of the handcar, and carefully they pushed it down, alternatingly. The handcar gradually picked up some speed, and off they went. Micael checked the path of the tracks if it would surely lead them to the open gates, he looked at it very carefully with the help of just the moon, and surely, he had seen the end of the tracks on the entrance of a property; blurred enough to not be recognized. He was contended, but he could see that spring-heeled Jack was not. He knew that Jack was not contended at all as the color from his very eyes became dim, or? Is he really even satisfied? had he become satisfied at all? Micael never knew, and he does not want to be involved on Jack’s true palaver.

The handcar’s speed was fast, and the only thing they knew was that they were in front of the open gates. It was not attractive at all. Wooden house, fence-looking gate, and dead grass on its very entrance. “This is it? I have thought of more,” said Micael, and sighed. He was disappointed, and never cared of Jack was, too. “Let’s say it WAS beautiful. After you, my boy,” spring-heeled Jack said, whilst opening the very gate. “Why is it called the OPEN GATES? If you don’t mind answering,” asked Micael. Jack did not utter something even related or something into of Micael’s question, and he never really did. He just walked past him and went to a dead tree.

But it wasn't true at all, Micael blinked his eyes thinking of a scenery with Jack, and soon he imagined willingly.

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