navwin » Main Forums » Passions in Prose » Kelvin - Part 4
Passions in Prose
Post A Reply Post New Topic Kelvin - Part 4 Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
fractal007
Senior Member
since 2000-06-01
Posts 1958


0 posted 2009-05-31 12:32 PM


I spent today working strange hours, remaining in the office executing my duties as best I understood them until 3 in the morning.  I slept six hours and, without respect to norm or custom, came out from the corner in which I rested and worked another day.  

I was dead tired when the day was over, and so I was asleep again in the corner room in the office, catching a wink before I hit the road, when I registered the door to the room opening and a voice asking,  "Are you okay?"  Instantly I became aware of how lazy I must have looked.  There were so many obligations which I needed to satisfy, so many norms both outside and inside which I still had to defy.  I turned my attention to the elderly woman.

"Yeah!" I said.  I had been discovered and it was time to get moving again.  

Now I cannot but turn my eyes Kelvin-ward.  I last left him standing beside a structure on which Lindsay leaned – something that looked like a well but wasn't one.  

"I bet," Lindsay said, her gruff voice coming through a warm and youthful face, "that you think we're on some kind of adventure and that you're here to save a princess or something stupid like that."

The thought had briefly crossed Kelvin's mind when he looked about himself and saw structures that were archaic and alien.  Over there stood a giant building made of sturdy old wood atop of which rotated a great structure.  To his left were rows of houses with only empty holes where windows would have been in more modern dwellings.  Four-legged creatures like horses but missing the manes and the pointed ears characteristic of horses, conducted people through the street.  

"Well guess what!” Lindsay said, “In the real world the men are rarely heroes and the women rarely need saving."

It was a bit of a letdown to be sure.

"Then," Kelvin said, "What are we doing here?"

"See that man over there?"

There stood a man who looked about five years younger than Kelvin.

"Yes," Kelvin said.

"He's you."

"What?"

Kelvin couldn't see the resemblance.  The man looked nothing like him and besides Kelvin tended not to crane his neck that way.

"I said he is you," Lindsay repeated.

Kelvin didn't bother trying to protest.  So far he had been rend asunder from the mouth downward and now he was being told that a total stranger was in fact him.  "Like I said,” Lindsay repeated,  “the men are rarely heroes and the women rarely need saving."  Kelvin looked back at Lindsay, whose face held a matter-of-fact sternness.  

"Uh....Okay?"  Kelvin had no idea what to do now.  If this were a fantasy land, he realized, he would be asking childish questions of this muse-like woman who stood beside him.  She would answer with emphatic pleas for help with some great evil, and Kelvin would make bold pronouncements about the imminent necessity of rescuing this person or of obtaining that esoteric artifact with which the said evil force had somehow absconded in order to remain consistent with its nature.  

Kelvin couldn't see any beautiful-looking maidens or quaint-looking wise men.  Instead what he saw were families in rags begging, arrogant merchants passing them by in the streets, and droppings on the ground.  That gang of men in chains over there was a group of prisoners, not a collection of sorry misfits who'd been enchanted and locked into supernatural captivity.  The ugly woman over there wasn't actually the love of Kelvin's life transformed by a dark spell.  In short, it was just like the world in which he lived but with a few changes in scenery.

"Where are we?" Kelvin asked.

"It's a place called Weiland," she answered.  You'd like the people here actually.  They love putting up a front.”

This irked Kelvin and he felt self conscious again.  What did she mean?  Did he dare ask?

“See the guy standing there?"  Lindsay pointed again at the man she'd previously designated Kelvin's doppelgänger.  "He actually loves writing about fictional worlds.  I've read some of his stuff.  It's okay.  He needs a bit more practice.  His mom's been helping him out by scolding him for thinking he could be a writer."

That struck Kelvin as odd.  "Why would she do that?" he ventured to ask.  

"Because the Weilandians believe that the most successful person is someone who can make something of themselves in spite of what people around them do in order to discourage them."

"And what does he have to do with me?"

"I didn't say he had anything to do with you, I said he was you."

I'm looking out the window now, and the rain is thundering down.  The lovely young lady at this sushi shop has just helped a family to their car.  She even brought umbrellas along.  I must admit that I had a hard time understanding that action.  Was it one of altruism?  Did she derive some pleasure from it?  I must say that I find her very amusing to watch. She is a pleasant distraction from--

"What do we do now?"

"I'll help you this time," Lindsay said.

"Help me with what?"  Kelvin was growing annoyed with this woman's cryptic and unhelpful replies.

"What do you think of him?" Lindsay said.

"I don't even know him."

"Hey!" Lindsay said.  "You there!"

Kelvin's doppelgänger turned to face them.  "May I help you?"

"Ooohh," Lindsay said.  "He's good.”  

She turned to Kelvin and said, “I'm Lindsay, by the way."

Uh,” Kelvin responded, “I'm Kelvin.”

"Well?" Lindsay said, “are you going to help him, Kelvin, or what?”

Kelvin stood there and said finally, "I...I could help you with your story."

Lindsay watched amused as the two began to talk with one another.  

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Wu, the man whom Kelvin and Lindsay had been eying, looked back with suspicion at the strange man, whose pants were dirtied as though he'd been walking through a marsh.  The man had just been standing there looking at Wu for a while now when he made his supposed offer of help.

This was obviously another test.  The man looked somewhat bitter, his excessive weight catching up with whatever happiness he might have had previously in life.  It was after all the goal of overweight people to visit their sorrows on others by commenting on the lack of meaning inherent in beauty or on the dangers of rapid weight loss.  Wu had learned that in his verbal self defense training at the hands of Du Mu, his personal tutor.  

“You know?” Kelvin said, “That story your mother keeps telling you off for writing in order to help you?”

Wu was beginning to enjoy this.  It was obvious that the man had no idea what he was doing.  He was either very adept at the art of conversational warfare or else very stupid.  Wu, realizing that he needed to train himself further in emotional recovery, decided to take the risk of siding with the latter assumption.

“Again,” he said, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Kelvin turned back to Lindsay and said, “I think you may have mistaken him for someone else.  I mean, how could you possibly know who he is?”

“There are countless ways,” Lindsay said.  “I could have come here before.  I could have been him in another life.  I could have listened in on your thoughts.  Like I said, he is you.  But if you want proof...”

Kelvin felt a strange sensation now, as though he were beside himself.  Yes, before him there materialized an image of another Kelvin standing there.  The double said, “I could help you to incorporate your father's passion for building and construction into the narrative.  That's something I know you've been dying to do.”

It was true.  Wu thought of the countless times he had wanted, in a work of filial love, to tell of his father's passion for woodworking and for working with his hands.  More often than not that passion had translated into a barb of resentment toward Wu for his attempts at writing.  His father had used the potential energy atop an emotional mountain to launch his didactic attacks upon Wu and his creations.  Wu wanted desperately to bring his father with him into Camgennia, that creation that now resided in the ancient books of the aphorisms of the dead.

Kelvin felt as though he could identify properly with himself again.  It had been strange to see himself standing there, talking with such weird cadence and strange wording, and while it happened Kelvin could almost feel his jaw moving.  He was surprised to see the diversity of expressions on his face as he'd offered to help the man.  He didn't know his face was capable of such a range of emotion or his demeanor of such energy.

“Go on,” Lindsay said, smiling.  “Take credit for it!”

Life's short.  Think hard!
Me!

© Copyright 2009 fractal007 - All Rights Reserved
rad802
Member
since 2008-04-19
Posts 279
KY U.S.A.
1 posted 2009-08-08 09:28 PM


on to 5.

A worthy legacy is the irrevocable consequence of dreaming.
Rick A. Delmonico

Post A Reply Post New Topic ⇧ top of page ⇧ Go to Previous / Newer Topic Back to Topic List Go to Next / Older Topic
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.
navwin » Main Forums » Passions in Prose » Kelvin - Part 4

Passions in Poetry | pipTalk Home Page | Main Poetry Forums | 100 Best Poems

How to Join | Member's Area / Help | Private Library | Search | Contact Us | Login
Discussion | Tech Talk | Archives | Sanctuary