Rough ideas for my work-in-progress novel ‘Wanderer.’
Her small footsteps echoed through the tall corridor. A sort of pat-pat sound as she wandered bare-foot. Her shadows flickered from the lanterns hung along the columns, dancing around her as she slowly progressed forward. The little girl was not afraid. Perhaps, vaguely curious. Yet, she was mindless. Emotionless. Eyelids half closed, arms dangling, she walked down the hallway like a sleepwalker in a labyrinth.
The corridor broke into a large open space. A dark, gloomy room lined with towering columns. Only a few lights hung in the chamber, two stories above the girl. Their light hardly reached the marble floor she stood on. Looking up, there was an expansive dome ceiling with a massive mural. Its pictures were clouded by an opaque fog of dull blue light that radiated from the dome perimeter, forming a ghostly ring around the mural. Looking at it from far below, it was truly a sight to behold. The girl, however, was not moved. She did not realize its unique beauty. She stayed expressionless, staring upwards, watching.
Three other cardinal hallways branched out from the chamber. Each of them led to more darkness. All except for one. There was a faint blue glow at the end, similar to the ceiling. A new scent creeped in. An unfamiliar one. Fresh. Perplexing. A mixture far more complex than the musty, airless chamber. Seemingly intrigued for the first time, the girl wandered forward. The light got brighter as she approached. But not much brighter. Her eyes adjusted quickly. Soon enough, she reached the end.
Tall stretches of grass swayed in the moonlight. The dark sky was filled with countless stars and small puffs of clouds. The full moon illuminated the landscape in a subtle, perfect blue. The gentle breeze brushed the little girl’s hair into her face. She winced her eyes as if she had realized its existence for the first time, sluggishly raising a hand to bat it away.
She peered through slit eyes to find the invisible hand that was pushing her. She made out a dark silhouette, in stark contrast against the flat horizon. A shape she had missed the first time. Intricate from the sea of grass it floated in. Familiar to the depictions on the dome mural. A slender, stone-faced figure, sat on top of a cold boulder. It was hunched over, one leg bent up to its chest, the other limply stretched down the rock. A long stick was tucked inside an arm and a leg. It stared forward, directly at the girl, without a sign of motion. She could have easily mistaken it for a statue if not for her swaying hat and robes.
Finally it spoke. “You are awake, child.”
The little girl did not react. She did not flinch. Nor did she respond.
“Pleasant dreams?”
“…..”
“I gather.” The woman stayed perfectly still. Only her mouth moved, her eyes patiently watching.
The girl eventually lost interest and stared off to her left, still trying to bat her hair away from her face. There was a solitary tree out in the field. Tall and great, with its arms stretching far from its trunk.
“Do you know where you are, child?”
For the first time, the little girl showed signs of recognition when she turned back to the speaking figure. Still, she did not utter a word.
“What is your name, child?”
The girl blankly stared at the figure on the rocks.
“Do you not remember?”
Silence still. She was intrigued by the woman. But the questions seemed to be vague noise to her ears.
The woman’s expression altered slightly. A sense of doubt twinkled in her eyes. Her staff straightened, and she raised her head. Her unblinking eyes observing the girl.
This first signs of unpatterned movement piqued the little girl’s interest. Her eyes opened wider for the first time. Her hand lowered. Losing interest in her own hair.
“Your name?” the woman repeated. Her language shortening.
The girl looked lost now.
“Can you understand me?”
“…..”
“… No…?”
“…..”
The woman raised an arm to her head level, palm opened towards her face. It slowly drifted there. The girl turned her eyes to the woman’s hand as it hovered against the moonlit clouds. Gradually the breeze stopped, and there was dead silence.
The woman dropped her arm back to her leg. “Can you hear me?”
“…..” The child’s eyes followed her arm back to her leg.
“Show me a sign, if you can.”
Her eyes trained back to the woman’s face.
“… You really are a child, aren’t you?”
“…..”
The woman pulled her leg back up the stone and crossed her legs, turning herself slightly away from the child. She reached out a hand. “Come.”
The breeze began to pick up again. The child did not move at first. Then, as if she was gently nudged in the back, she tilted forward and caught herself on the fall with a leg. Then the other leg. Then the other. Gradually, she figured she should walk forward. Towards the woman, stopping at the bottom of the boulder. Her hand still outstretched, the figure reached down towards the girl, inviting her up. The girl raised her hand, realizing it looked familiar to the one in front of her. She mimicked the woman, turning her palm up to the sky, then placing her small hand on top of the woman’s.
The woman gently enveloped her fingers around the child’s and raised her arm towards herself. The child’s body eerily followed the motion, weightlessly gliding up the rocks, her legs dangling in the air. She did not flinch, and soon she found herself sitting criss-crossed in front of the woman, her hand still in hers. It felt warm, despite the cool ambiance of the night. Her face was now much closer to the woman’s. She saw her smiling.
“Do you have a name, child?”
“…” There was a closed-mouth murmur from the girl. She did not seem accustomed to being this close to another person. She saw how the woman’s hair brushed against her face as well. With her free hand, she reached up and touched her own hair. Then, without invitation, she reached out and touched the woman’s hair.
The woman did not flinch. She curiously watched the child press the hair between her fingers. The woman’s eyes sparked, awakening her to the girl’s state of mind. She understood the child now.
Chuckling, she brought her other hand up to meet the girl’s. “No, this is not your hair. This is mine.”
The child stared at her eyes. There was a sense of confusion in the noise the woman made.
“You have much to learn it seems.” She lowered the girl’s hand from her face. “But first, you will need a name.”
“…..”
“… How about we rest on it, hm?” She drew the child closer, gently laughing. “I’m not the best at names.”
Again, the girl was intrigued by the odd, yet warm discharge of sound from deep within the woman.
“Are you tired?”
“…..”
“Here.” The woman invited the child to lean forward, gently lowering her head onto the woman’s lap, unfolding her legs, and encouraging her to close her eyes.
“…..”
The child remained silent, but she expressed a quiet breath of satisfaction as she curled up on the woman’s lap. She stared at the clouds with slit eyes, her eyelids growing heavy. The woman watched the sky with her, stroking the child’s hair as her breaths grew slower and slower. Eventually, the girl shut her eyes, and fell back into a slumber.