UNSPOKEN: Undone Realms Book 3

Ch. 23: Give and Take

(Several months after Oliver enters the Dry Dock)

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.

Oliver remembers his mother reading these words out of the tattered family bible she managed to keep even after most of their other possessions had been lost or sold.

One Oklahoma winter when Oliver was a boy, he became grievously ill-a wheezy cough raking through his narrow chest while streams of sweat drenched his nightshirt. He called out to people long gone who he believed, in his fever, were visiting him from beyond. Through dark, desperate hours, his mother kept a bedside vigil, soothing herself by reciting passages from her bible. Looking back, Oliver wonders now if it wasn't his life that she was imagining when she read of the Lord giving and taking.

The new doctor in town was a cultured fellow who considered himself above bartering. Without being able to trade a chicken for her son's diagnosis, his mother made one of her own: pneumonia. If she couldn't afford the doctor's medicine, she would have to make do. Basing it on her granny's recipe, she concocted her own cure, a honey-brown elixir with a pungent sulfuric aroma.

Oliver took a teaspoon of that awful syrup three times a day for over two weeks. After the first week, the fever had passed and the weight on his chest lifted. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was at death's door. His head ached something terrible, and every time he tried to stand, he swayed from side-to-side as though he was Dorothy Gale, caught up in a twister about to be carried away to some far-away land.

The truth was, he'd been having these symptoms ever since his ma had made him take that first dose of great-granny's cure, only he hadn't been able to distinguish them over the fever dreams and rib-splintering cough. Once those subsided, he knew-the medicine was sickening him just as surely as the pneumonia had.

This is the reality Oliver now faces: this world, this Dry Dock orchard-it gives to Oliver, but it takes from him as well.

The Dry Dock, according to Marcella, is an energetic tonic meant to heal. And it does. It is comprised of just the right frequencies to ease the effects of the other realm sickness he's been suffering from for the past nine years. Slowly, it restores his memory, giving it back to him in piece by digestible piece. He remembers his family, his brother, his sister, the farm in Oklahoma. He remembers the orchard-the original orchard, and the young girl he met there.

He remembers Avie.

Marcella fills him in on the rest-the parts of his life that he cannot remember because they happened not to him, but to those he loves after he was taken from them.

"You have a daughter trapped in the realm I originally created for you. She's there with Nolan."

Of course. Nolan. No wonder he's so invested in all of this.

Oliver is able to tell the difference between realities now. The only buzz he hears is from bees as they zoom between tiny yellow buttercups cropping up here and there amidst the weathered trees. He knows who he is because this is a place that restores you to yourself.

And therein lies the problem.

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.

Oliver is the man who was whisked away from the authorities in the nick of time and brought to safety. He is also a man who was never saved-the product of a successful experiment by 531 and the eternal prisoner, tortured by the knowledge that he aided in injuring the people who were trying to help him.

Oliver has the memories of two timelines. He is a man out of time, or maybe a man who has acquired too much time.

Clarity diminishes.

At night in the tidy little cabin, Oliver thrashes about on his cot, his wrists held down by invisible shackles.

Marcella visits him daily, teaching him Vitalist doctrines as well as their language. She says he has PTSD and that it's totally understandable. She brings in a Vitalist therapist who spends countless hours helping him work through it. But Oliver knows he has PTSD and then some. His nightmares are about a group of Vitalists 347 told him were murdered by authorities on their way through the Fold, about some kind of supersonic explosive device the authorities used to shut down a pathway to one of the known realms, trapping whoever was in that realm there for a long time, if not forever. Oliver remembers things that both have happened and have never happened.

Nolan is the first to accept as truth what Oliver is claiming. "Don't even bring it up with them, Oliver, not even with Marcella. She doesn't remember the other timeline-the one in which you weren't rescued. In her mind, we got you out before it was too late. She knows, though, that we time-traveled. Marcella, Vira, the other Vitalists-they know on an intellectual level that we changed the timeline, but they have no experience of it happening."

Oliver's eyes widen. "But you do?"

Nolan nods. "We are the product of inverse time travel, though technically, you didn't travel back in time, only I did. But you were exposed to it, through me, and I'm sorry to say that your knowledge of two timelines is a side effect I was not expecting."

Oliver picks yet another apple from a nearby branch. No matter how long he spends here, the trees are always laden, the apples always the perfect level of ripeness.

"If you asked Marcella why she created this realm," Nolan continues, "she would say it was to save you. She'd claim the Vitalists were motivated by the threats the authorities had been making ever since the day you were shot at that bowling alley. An informant kept them aware of the progress they were making with you during the first years of your captivity, so Marcella knew full well what they meant to do with you. But she has no memory of combating the authorities' terrorist activities within the Fold. None of them do. You just have to accept everyone else's ignorance, Oliver, as well as your own state."

Oliver tries, but he doesn't have Nolan's superpowers. His mind isn't capable of seamlessly melding two timelines the way Nolan's can. All he can really do is learn to cope, though even his coping skills are sorely lacking.

Nolan never loses patience with him, but Oliver can tell something is pressing upon him and that Oliver's lack of progress isn't making the situation any better.

"How's your Vitalist script coming along?" Nolan bites his lip expectantly, so Oliver shows him a notebook he's been practicing in. Nolan perks up a bit when he sees it. "That's good work Oliver! You've really have it down now."

"If only that was all that I needed to have down, right?"

Nolan sighs. "You need to learn more than you think you're capable of. Your mind needs to be steady." Oliver raises an eyebrow and Nolan gives him a sympathetic smile. "I know Oliver, but it has to happen-you need to be well enough."

"Well enough for what?"

"To send a message to your daughter."

A/N: It's our very first Oliver's POV-only chapter! Oliver, it seems, is still struggling. The Dry Dock did cure his other realm sickness (yay!) but with the restoration of his memories came the realization that he remembers too much now, including the timeline wiped out by Nolan's actions. My burning question for you is, does this all make sense? Time travel brings with it conundrums. It's inevitable. If anyone spots any holes in my reasoning or if anything needs further explanation, please let me know!

Thank you for all of your help! Please don't forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter.

I have another talented writer to feature: @_Ahna_ wrote THE FATES, which follows the three mythical goddesses as young women living on our planet. I'm so impressed with how Nicole weaves the various narratives together in short beautifully poignant vignettes. If you like the Fold Series, something tells me you'll like THE FATES as well. It is also a Watty winner for Best of Interactive Storytelling. Quite an accomplishment!

Today's image is courtesy of Akulatraxas, Flickr Creative Commons.