A Novelist

Coming at Odds

Breakfast came upon them sooner than they had hoped.  The clanging of pots and the smoky smell of cooking meat stirred them from their beds.  Benjamin’s head had just plunged into his pillow when he heard the crowing orders of a maid downstairs.  His chest sank and he dragged himself from his warm bed.  He pulled on his clothes and dampened his hair just enough to sweep it to one side and appear as if he had bathed.  When he exited his room and turned to close the door, he saw Edmund leaving his room as well.

"Good morning, Ed,” Benjamin said sternly.

"Good morning, Benjamin.” Edmund slicked his hair back with his moistened hands and hurried downstairs.

Hoping to put their earlier enthusiasm in a more temperate light, Benjamin picked up his pace until he had caught up with his friend.  “Hey, listen, Edmund, can I talk to you for a moment?”  He knew their previous conversation had been entertaining.  They had had their fun, but it was now time to figure out what to do next.

Knowing what Benjamin was going to say, Edmund talked first.  “Let’s not talk about it right now, all right?  I need time to think about this, too.”

Benjamin started to reply, but a sudden wave of unsteadiness overtook him and he collapsed on the steps.  Hearing the thuds behind him, Edmund turned around and, without question, ran up beside Benjamin.

Are you all right?”

"I’m good.  Felt as if my equilibrium was knocked. I’ll be all right.”  Benjamin waved him off and pressed his fingers above his eyes, trying to relieve the swimming in his head.  “Probably lack of sleep.”  He looked up and smacked Edmund in the face.  “Don’t look so scared, it’s nothing.  I’m probably dehydrated.”  Benjamin wobbled to his feet and grabbed the banister.  He walked down slowly, taking a breath between each three steps.  Edmund stood beside him, a hand out in case he fell.

"Edmund? Edmund is that you?” came his grandmother’s pinched voice.  “What in the world is the matter?”

"Nothing, Grandmother!  We will be down momentarily!”  He whipped his face towards Benjamin and tapped his shoulder.  “You’re going to be all right by the time we get down?”

"Yeah, I will.”  Benjamin tried to sound convincing through his smile, but Edmund could tell something else was taking a toll on Benjamin’s mind.

"Benjamin, you don’t look well—,”

"Edmund! Please, it’s all right.  It’s cool, I mean, it’s fine.”  Benjamin shoved Edmund out of the way and hurried down the steps.

Sighing, Edmund made his way down.  He hadn’t seen Benjamin so flustered; it wasn’t like Benjamin to be out of control.

"Ah! Edmund, at last, you came.  Take a seat and hurry with your breakfast.  Your friend here doesn’t look so well, either,” the grandmother said.

Edmund moved his eyes towards Benjamin and saw him sitting in his chair, growing paler as they spoke.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Seymour, I have some business to attend to,” Benjamin apologized with a struggling smile.  He excused himself and, with resolute steps, returned upstairs.

"Edmund, you explain to me this instant!  What is the matter!”

"Grandmother, please, it doesn’t concern you!”  Edmund ran up behind Benjamin, trying to get ahead of him.

The grandmother patted her mouth and placed her napkin on the table.  Her face wrinkled even more in curiosity and she decided to follow them.  As she walked up the stairs, she heard their voices overlapping one another’s in intense argument.  At the sound of wood breaking and the smashing of porcelain, her feet became remarkably light and it wasn’t long before she stood at Edmund’s door, knocking furiously.

"Open this door at once!”

The disorder in the room came to a halt and Edmund answered from behind the door.  “Yes, ma’am?”

Without saying a word, the grandmother pushed the door open and squeezed in between Edmund and the door frame.  With eyes peeled for evidence of wrongdoing, she searched the room.  Finding nothing but scattered pages lining the floor, she whipped around and glared at Benjamin.

"Ever since you came, there’s been nothing but a storm of secrecy here! I have come to the conclusion that you’re trouble and that you must leave at once!”

"Grandmother,” Edmund laughed breathlessly. “He’s our guest. He doesn’t need to leave anytime soon. He’s my editor!”

"Off with this editing nonsense! Your book is rubbish and this whole writing business is out!”

Edmund shifted his jaw and stomped a foot lightly. He rushed up to his grandmother and tried to calm her. “Please, Grandmother, don’t.  We still have a lot to do.  And he’s my friend.”

The tension fell from Benjamin’s face as Edmund spoke.  He hadn’t heard Edmund state that he was his friend, nor had he heard that from anyone else, for that matter.

 “You will not talk back to me!”

"Please, let him at least stay until March; we hope to complete my story before my eighteenth birthday.  It’s not that far, Grandmother. Please.”

"Until March.  But until then, you two will stay in this house and spend every moment editing that book!  If you can finish sooner than that, then you’re out, Mr. Howard.”  The grandmother left swiftly, shutting the door behind her.

"March?  Edmund, that’s two weeks away.  We’re barely halfway through!” Benjamin pointed out, flinging himself into the chair.  He massaged his forehead and felt ill.  Little did he know that traveling through time caused mental strain—just like a muscle, tearing when pushed beyond its limits.

Edmund came over and sat on the desk.  “We don’t have enough time.”

Benjamin looked up at Edmund and sighed loudly. “One thing to do, Edmund,” he closed his eyes and with difficulty, he said, “Get rid of this book.”

Edmund rolled his eyes in stubbornness and slid off the desk.  But Benjamin persisted,

“We’ll be free of all this! We are chained in this room, working and working, never feeling like we’ve done enough!”

The other boy knelt down and gathered up his work. He laid each page carefully upon one another. He looked up at Benjamin, piercing him with two cold eyes. “No.”

“Then I’m leaving, friend or no friend. I know how I want to live the rest of my life and it’s not in this crazy house!” Benjamin strode to the door and stretched out to open it before Edmund snatched him by the collar and sent a hard blow across his jaw. Benjamin hit the floor, stunned. “You’re crazy!”

“Try and leave again, Benjamin! But we’re finishing this book no matter what.  We have to!”

Benjamin pushed himself off the floor and stared into Edmund’s eyes. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m not going to leave until we destroy it. Come on, Ed! Can’t you feel the peace you’ll have?”

Edmund turned away and rubbed his sore knuckles.

Benjamin stepped in front of him, searching his eyes. “Please, Edmund. On your birthday, we will destroy it. I can’t leave knowing you’ll be pinned here forever. We both know we can never finish this. The dreams will continue to plague us. We’ll die before we finish it.” Benjamin raised an eyebrow, cuing Edmund to answer.

“What if we can’t destroy it?  What if we burn it or drown it and it’s still invincible?”

“We’ll have to see then, won’t we? First time for everything!” Benjamin’s playful expression returned and he headed for the door a second time. This time, he stopped himself. He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “I swear, Edmund, if we don’t destroy this book, I will have to go to extremes I dare not think about. You may want to stay in your beautiful nightmare, but I don’t.”

Benjamin left the room and slammed the door behind him.  Edmund sighed and his thoughts traveled down a road he hadn’t ventured before. Dark mischievous ideas infected his mind, and for the first time toward Benjamin, Edmund felt hate.