There’s a girl and two guys. We’re all talking, daring one another to jump into a nearby river. We’re talking usual talk, the kind of stuff that’s all about toys and games and the stuff that’s supposed to fill a young person’s mind in movies. But see, I’m right in the middle of another scene.
The movies never really get it right. They make some things so much fancier and prettier than it really is.
The people with me, they get along.
And I’m not saying I don’t get along with other people; that part is easy. What I’m really saying is that people usually don’t have such perfect conversations. They don’t just go from talking to arguing and back so smoothly. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say except that I think… I think that the movies get it so right, get it perfect, and because it’s perfect, it comes off fake. Yeah, that’s it. I’m walking with three characters from an adventure movie I watched when I was a kid.
I watched the hell out of this movie.
We’re about to find a dead body.
It’s the discovery that defines our summer.
But it’s also the discovery that defines our lives. Some of us never make it past this discovery. It kind of warps our minds.
But we’re living a perfect moment. It’s summer and we’re kids and we’re friends. What gets better than that? In this dream, the dream I’m gripping on to, just waiting for its strange turns, it doesn’t. We walk through that forest to the rocky line where it slopes into a gorge.
One character says something.
Another character says something.
A third character says something.
And then I say something.
But there’s no overlap unless we’re supposed to be arguing. There’s a rhythm to the way we talk. We’re friends. That’s how we’re defined. I don’t know anything about them — let’s just say that I don’t even though I’ve seen the movie a thousand times — and we’re best of friends, looking for some great adventure.
It’s just like that Friday when I ran. There was Brad and Blaire and… that other kid. Steve, yeah, that’s his name. I barely knew him and he barely knew me. It’s just like that day, except the characters here are written in the script to get along.
I walk with them and I say my lines.
I walk with them, but I’m more interested in the knowledge that this is about to change. I can almost sense it coming. In my dream, I’m able to think my way through the events as they happen. It’s so cool that I can, that I know how this will come together. I should be bored, but it’s like I’m walking through the scene of the movie as it’s being filmed.
I’m like, “Where’s the camera?” right as it all changes.
Instead of the gorge and the dead body, it’s Falter Kingdom. I can see the crown, the dark tunnel, the sort of doom and gloom that you always feel around the place. One second I’m in a movie and the next second it’s me, standing there with the rest of them; I’m talking about Blaire and Brad and Steve. We’re as we really were, and there’s Brad talking to Steve.
This is how real people talk. It’s not pretty. It’s more annoying than anything else.
I hear them talking about Nikki. It’s just like the usual, Brad always bringing up the gossip, Nikki at the top of the list.
“You guys hear?”
No, I didn’t hear, Brad.
And then there’s Blaire. Blaire looks miserable. She’s always so focused on school and the future. All that stuff. Then there’s that kid Steve, but let’s just move on because whatever.
Who’s left but, oh yeah, me. I’m drinking beer, downing them one after the other, which makes Blaire kind of worried; she notices while Brad gets competitive.
I knew that he would and there I am, knowing just what to say to make it not be about me. But on this day, it becomes all about me. Everything turns and the dream does too. It turns all on me. Eyes on me, like I asked to be the main character. Even I’m looking at me. But then I start tossing and turning in my sleep. Something’s weird about this.
The details are different. They don’t add it up.
It’s not just the details either. It’s the perspective.
I’m seeing from somewhere else… and it’s not until I’m walking up — that’s me, walking up to Brad and Steve — that I get it.
I get it now.
I’m not really listening to them and I’m drinking and then it kind of just happens before I even realize it. I tell them that I’ll do it.
Funny how one stupid thing can turn everything upside down.
Everything’s upside down and I’m seeing it all happen.
I’m running down the tunnel like it’s so damn easy. I’m running all drunk, almost tripping on my toes.
I’m running toward you.
And then I pass you by. It’s like you’re running after me. It’s like you’re the camera and I’m the main character, being filmed.
But this isn’t anything like that. This is what you saw, right? This is what you’re trying to tell me.
You leave me though. You let me run and you turn and look back at what happens when their timers go off. First it’s Blaire, who says, “Oh no…”
And then it’s Steve who says, “Hunter?” He sounds insincere, kind of worried but clearly doesn’t care.
And then it’s Brad who starts freaking out: “What the fuck?” But that doesn’t stop him from shotgunning a can of beer.
Blaire tells him, “Something’s wrong.”
“Shit,” Brad says, beer running down the sides of his mouth.
Steve starts backing away from the opening of the tunnel.
Brad notices. “Shit, how long’s he been in there?”
Blaire doesn’t have to check. She knows exactly how long.
But I don’t hear that part. You decide to move on, back to me, running. You join me where you left me, and it’s only at that point that I am able to move forward. I was running in place? I start grinding my teeth. I never grind my teeth in my sleep.
Back to Blaire, who’s the only one left.
I know where Brad went. Like Steve, he was scared. He didn’t want to be involved, thinking about himself first. When Blaire called him out on it, he shouted, “We’ll get help!” They were both so scared they couldn’t move.
I know because you know.
It’s the only way I’m able to know.
You reach out to me and touch me, but I don’t see your hand and I don’t notice you when you do; but that gets me to stop. That sends the signal to go back. But you’re with me the entire run back.
You’re at my side when I walk the trail back to my car.
You’re right there, in the front passenger seat, when I pull out of the Meadows parking lot.
You’re right there.
My body and mind are telling me that this is bad. I’m starting to shake in my sleep, but something else, the fact that the dream keeps going… it keeps me from just pushing away. My curiosity makes me turn the next corner. But instead of driving home, I’m driving back.
It’s three A.M.
I know because you know. It’s three A.M. the previous night and I’m driving. I make that exit and I end up on that dirt road. I sit there for a while and you stand outside, watching me from the front of the car. At one point, I look right at you and I’m able to see what I look like. I look different somehow. I don’t know.
Turn another corner, on foot, and I walk toward you.
I turn my attention to you.
It’s the darkness of night and it’s like that person standing at the opening of Falter Kingdom… it’s like that person isn’t really me.
You look at me and I look back.
I see what you see.
That person sits down. That person seems to be really patient, like he has nowhere else to go.
For a while, there’s nothing, one watching the other.
But then there’s the familiar voice: “H, you there?”