Marcie And The Amazons: 42. The Upside-Down Puddle

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Hours must have passed... I had no way to tell... but Belle and I were awakened by excited calls from Cakey and Donkey.

"Girls! Belle! Marcie! Wake up! Wake up! We're rescued! Wiggy's here!"

Marcie And The Amazons by Kaleigh Way

 

42. The Upside-Down Puddle

 

If you spend much time in a place with no windows, where no light comes in from outside, your time-sense disconnects in a weird way. You can tell when a minute or two has passed, but unless you have a clock, an hour doesn't feel any different from two hours or four. Day and night are exactly alike. Hunger and sleepiness come upon you suddenly, without warning. When you wake up, you have no idea how long you've slept, or whether it's tomorrow already or still today.

When all of us girls slept together in the big dorm room in the cave, it was different because so many girls had watches and because all of us followed the same schedule.

Now there was only Belle and me, and neither of us had watches. I had to believe it was night, because Belle was sleeping. It didn't feel like night to me, and I wasn't sleepy at all. The cave was silent, except for the sound of Belle's breathing and her occasional murmur or sigh.

After a while I got tired of lying in bed, so I wrapped myself in my blanket and hunkered down on the floor. I was so bored that I finally picked up the book of fairy tales, but the light was too dim to read by. Plus, there were no pictures. Just page after page of words.

From where I was sitting I could look over my bed, out through the pantry's cage-like door into the great room of the cave. It was dark out there. None of the girls had bothered to leave a candle burning. No one was out there, and there was no one in the two dorm rooms beyond.

If I looked under my bed, I could see Belle sleeping. I lay on my side, using the book as a pillow, and watched her blanket rise and fall with her breath. I imagined how strange it would look if someone could see us from above: two girls lying on the floor, on either side of an empty bed.

I found to my surprise that Belle was right: sleeping on the floor *was* comfortable. I thought she was being polite or accommodating, but it was true. At least, *this* floor was comfortable. The cave was made of soft rock, soft to the touch, soft to walk upon, and — as Belle had discovered — soft to lie on.

Whatever time it was, it had to be very late or very early. There was nothing to do, nothing to hear, nothing to see... eventually I got tired of being awake and dozed off.
 


 

Hours must have passed... I had no way to tell... but Belle and I were awakened by excited calls from Cakey and Donkey.

"Girls! Belle! Marcie! Wake up! Wake up! We're rescued! Wiggy's here!"

I sat up, groggy, barely comprehending.

"Wiggy's here?" Belle asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes. "Really? Did she row back? Did she bring help?"

"She didn't row back!" Donkey answered scornfully, but then, happy and excited again, she said, "She came in a helicopter! With reporters!"

Now I was awake. "Reporters?" I echoed. "Oh, no!"

"Hey, they were looking for you, Marcie," Donkey explained. "After you stopped that thief in Hawaii, these two reporters were trying to find out where you went."

"So how did they find us?" I asked, as confused as I could be.

Cakey said, "Wiggy rowed to that island, and she found some people. They put out a call."

"They called reporters?" I asked dubiously.

"No, they called the search and rescue people."

"What about the adults?" Belle asked. "Did they find them?"

"Not yet," Cakey said, "I was just going to say that. They think the ship's crew ended up on some other island, 'cause there's, like, millions of them around here. So they sent the search and rescue people to look for them. The reporters heard the calls, and they volunteered to come pick us up."

"Lovely," I said.

"What's the problem?" Donkey asked.

"I came here to get away from reporters. Now they're going to be up close and personal." I blushed, but it was no time to be modest or ashamed. "Plus, they're going to find out about my secret."

Donkey scoffed. "What are you, crazy? Nobody's going to tell them."

"Give us a little credit, Marcie," Cakey said.

"What about Mirina?" I asked. "And Graffy and Grooty?"

"We stick together," Cakey informed me. "Nobody's going to tell on you. Not Mirina, not the twins, not nobody. No way. Okay?"

"All right," I said, hoping she was right.

"In fact," Cakey added, "Mirina's stalling the reporters, so they don't come in here before you're ready."

"Speaking of which — it's time to bust you out of there!" Donkey cried enthusiastically. "Let's do it!"

So saying, she placed a screwdriver against the latch and pounded it with a hammer. She was clearly enjoying herself, but the noise she made was deafening.

"Stop! Stop!" Cakey cried. "You're not getting anywhere that way! Put the screwdriver against the tumbler, here. Knock that out, and the door will open."

Without another thought, Donkey moved the screwdriver and gave a mighty blow with the hammer. A small piece broke off and flew directly into my face, striking my forehead.

"Sorry, Marcie, sorry!" Donkey called. "Did I hurt you? Maybe you two should move out of the way."

"Maybe *I* should do this," Cakey retorted. "Are you okay, Marcie?"

"Yeah," I said, and touched my forehead. "It didn't hurt, but why is my forehead wet? Am I bleeding?"

"No, you're not bleeding," Belle answered. "Your forehead isn't wet, either."

"Yes, it *is* wet," I insisted. "I can feel it." I looked at my hand. My fingertips glistened with water. I told the others, "Look at my hand. It's wet, too." Glancing around, I tried to find the little piece of latch, but didn't see it.

"You couldn't get wet from something off the door anyway," Cakey said. "Can you move out of the way now, so I can finish knocking this thing open?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, but I wanted to know where the water was coming from. I glanced up at the ceiling and saw a wet spot directly above my head. It looked like a paper-thin, upside-down puddle. As I watched, the puddle on the ceiling grew thicker for a moment as water gathered in its center. The center swelled until it hung like a sack, then turned to a pear shape. The stem grew longer until the drop let go, falling in slow motion until it landed, fat and full of wetness, directly on my right eye.

"Ack!" I spluttered, more from surprise than anything else.

Then came a very different surprise, one that made my heart fall within me. No, no, no! I cried in silent protest as a familiar voice whispered, "Sorry!" and a hand brushed the hair from my forehead. "I didn't mean to wake you."
 


 

Before I explain the voice and the hand, I have to explain something to you, the reader. At long last, I have to tell you exactly what's been going on.

I've been telling you this story... or this set of stories... without hinting at what's coming or how I got home. You must know that I did get home. Otherwise, how could I tell you this story?

At the very beginning, I told you this would all make sense in the end. At least, I think it does. I hope it does.

I also began by saying that I told you this story to try to get things straight in my own head. That's what this is all about.

After taking off with Wiggy and the Amazons, after my dream as Marcie Auburn, after being shipwrecked on the island, and dreaming that I woke up at home... and above all, because of the stupid fairy tale that followed me wherever I went, dreaming or waking... you wouldn't be surprised if I told you that I woke up somewhere else now.

You wouldn't be surprised, but I'm pretty sure you'd at least be irritated and out of all patience.

Well, if you are... take a number. You have to get in line behind me, because *I* cannot take any more.

You might feel cheated or angry if I woke up at home once again... but how do you think that *I* feel?

At this point, you may be "sick and tired" as my mother says, of me going back and forth, of changing from Marcie Donner to Marcie Auburn and back again, of being home but not really home, and of having dreams that are no different from waking reality...

However confused, bothered, or upset you find yourself — multiply that by a million and seventy and you'll get an idea of where I am.

And where am I now?

Instantly, of course, I knew: I was lying in my bed, in my room, at home.

My mother was standing over me.

"What hit me?" I asked.

"I was going to take your pulse," she explained, "and I accidentally dropped my watch. It just grazed your forehead; it didn't really hit you."

"Why was it wet?" I asked. As I spoke, I licked my lips and realized what an arid, dry mouth I had.

"I just washed my hands," she answered.

"Oh," I said, and fell silent.

By now I'd had my fill of wondering what was real. By now, I'd gone through it with the Auburn family, Belle, my mother and Cassie, and Belle a second time. This time, at least I wouldn't make a fool of myself.

"What day is it?" I asked.

"Friday."

"What's the date?"

"December 29th."

I let out something that was a mixture of a groan and a sigh. "Mom? I just had the strangest dream, and I'm not sure what was the dream and what was real. In fact, I'm not sure that I'm not still dreaming."

"Wait until you wake up a bit, and your head will clear," she counseled, but I knew from experience that *that* wouldn't work.

"Let me ask you," I said. "Did we go to Ida's house for dinner?"

"Did we ever! Cheesecake and liver... what a combination! She is *so* upset that her dinner made you sick."

"And the secret tunnel... is that real?"

"Yes, but remember: don't tell anyone!"

As if I would! "And then, after that, I've just been sick in bed? I didn't go anywhere? Nobody called to offer me a trip to the South Seas?"

Mom laughed. "Is that what you dreamed? A South-Sea vacation? Sounds like a wonderful dream."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Just wonderful."

"I'm going to go downstairs and bring you up some food," she told me. "Some broth and tea and toast. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," I said. "I'm going to make my way to the bathroom."

"Can you handle that by yourself?"

"Yes, sure."

She waited to see me get to my feet and hobble a few steps. As I stood, I noticed that the curtains were open. Morning light gently filled the room.

"Mom? Are the reporters still outside?"

"No, thank goodness! Thursday afternoon they all went away: lock, stock, and cameras."

"Are they still in front of the courthouse?"

"No. Your father drove by last night, and there was no one there."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Ms. Gifford called, but I was busy and couldn't really pay attention. I was just so relieved that they left! When your father comes home he can tell you all about it, or if you feel up to it, you could call Ms. Gifford and ask her. She does want to talk with you."

I nodded.

"But have something to eat first," she cautioned. "You need to get your strength up."

Mom waited as I shuffled toward the door. "You're sure you're alright by yourself?"

"Yes," I replied. "Oh, Mom! Two more things: Is Cassie Auburn coming to visit?"

"No," she said. "Why would she come here? Did you dream that, too?"

"No, Jerry told me. She's going to Princeton. She might stop by."

"Oh, that will be nice," Mom commented, but she didn't sound like she meant it. "What's the other thing you wanted to ask?"

"Did you buy me a book of fairy tales?"

"When you were little? Of course I did."

"No, now. For Christmas. A book of transgendered fairy tales."

"No, I didn't." Then, after a pause, "Did you want me to buy you a book like that for Christmas?"

"No, I—"

"Because, Marcie, I don't even know if there is such a book. Do you want me to look for one for you?"

"No, no," I said. "Please don't. It was just something I dreamed. I wondered whether it was real."

"No, it wasn't. But if you want—"

"No, I don't, Mom. Thanks. Forget about it. Seriously. Please forget I ever mentioned it. I don't want one. It was just a weird thing in my dream."

"Okay," she said, and seeing that I was done asking questions, she went downstairs.
 

I made it to the bathroom, slowly but without incident. While there, I did an anatomical inventory and found that I was still Marcie Donner, to all effects and purposes.
 

When Mom brought the food back up to me she said, "You have an appointment scheduled this afternoon with Mr. Angle. I've already told him that you probably won't make it, but he kept the hour open just in case. Shall I call and tell him you're not coming?"

"No," I said. An appointment with a therapist sounded exactly like what I needed. "No, please tell him that I'm coming. I want to go. I need to talk to him about something."

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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Comments

The Outer Limits!

Fine fine... I'm in the line... But I'm still rather out of patience. As much as this other reality jump is kinda irritating at least it sounds like things are FINALLY going to be resolved... right? Please? Pretty please? I seriously can't take this anymore, what's real? What's up or down for that matter? This whole adventure has turned into a three month outer limits episode, I'm just waiting for the voice to kick in reciting some wisdom about humanity.

Twilight Zone

I think the show that matches this also is the twilight zone considering this concerns dreaming.

Jenna From FL

Hugs,
Jenna From FL
Moderator/Editor
TopShelf BigCloset
It is a long road ahead but I will finally become who I should be.

This will be interesting

Frank's picture

Hey Kaleigh,

Can't wait to see how you pull this all together with a nice pink bow :)

Huggles

Frank

Hugs

Frank

Who done it?

I must compliment the author on her masterful telling of a mystery and a charactar study all rolled up into one. We don't often get to see the other path that might have been taken for a character but in this story we see three different Marcie's. In each of her alternates there are stresses put upon her which are very telling about the character who leads us on this adventure thru wonderland. Of course like any 'Who Done It', the author has dropped clues which will make the final outcome both fulfilling and satisfying. Of course I am not going to tell you which are the clues since that would be, well, telling. In telling the stories of the alternate Marcie's thru our Marcie's eyes, we get to find out a lot about her in such a little time. I've got to salute the author that she chose 2 aspects about Marcie to portray that makes this even more a revealer of Marcie as transgendered instead of just any girl who has a lot of adventures.

If you wonder what brought this on at this point in the story that I had to send my appreciations to the author. Well, perhaps it was the way that 'Marcie' had that emotional outburst directed straight at me the reader. I just had to let 'Marcie' know that I had her back and I was enjoying the journey. This has been a very fun roller coaster ride and I have had lots of fun! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

All my hopes,
Sasha Zarya Nexus

All my hopes
Sasha Zarya Nexus

Thank you so much!

You've really knocked me for a loop (in the best way) with your comment. I'm just floored, and of course, very happy and flattered.

I hope you enjoy the final outcome.

Kaleigh

I did enjoy the final outcome!

Kaleigh,
I did enjoy the final outcome. This was excellent writing and I felt very fortunate to read this story. I'm disheartened only when I hear your wonderful story compared to the reset that Dallas made to erase years of continuity in order to restore a character, Bobby Ewing, to the Night Time Soap.

Your story is more akin to the 'Back to the Future' trilogy where different alternate timeliness are shown through the hero's eyes which act in the same way as your alternates acted in this story. The point was not whether or not the time line continued but how the hero acted in the situation the alternate time line afforded. In the end there can be only one time line which is real and that is the one where the Hero or Heroine emerges from in the end of the story.

Another alternate universe story is from Classic Trek's "Mirror, Mirror". I feel that one of the most interesting parts of it is following the end where Kirk discovers that in his universe there is a counterpart of the person in the Mirror Universe that is the 'Captain's Woman' and he feels that they could become quite good friends. If the Ms. Way of the Story is accurate then something like that could be in Marcie's future too.

I live for the journey, where ever it leads, and I learn as I go.

All my hopes,
Sasha Zarya Nexus

All my hopes
Sasha Zarya Nexus

Thanks so much!

I really appreciate your saying so.

I agree with Gwen Completely

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

My Quetion About Marcie Is

Was the Amazons all a dream? I hope not, because that'd be a shame.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

next chapter tomorrow

final chapter Tuesday.

We'll find out.

For Once...

...I'm actually not going to guess what happens next.

I do feel sort of pleased that I was right about the story needing to take another trip home. And I'm reasonably sure that Wiggy's return with reporters was a dream, in the context of Marcie still being on the island. (That is, that assuming Marcie IS still on the island, the rescue still won't reflect reality there.) On the other hand, with just two chapters left, and at least part of one of them probably covering the therapy trip, the math isn't looking good.

Also, at the risk of pointing out the obvious, this trip home is simultaneous with the last dream trip home, so no more than one of the two trips can be "real". (And I don't THINK it's significant, but in both dreams, the reporters are said to have left "Thursday afternoon", but if it's Friday, one would expect Marcie's mother to say that they left "yesterday afternoon".)

Eric

(That "a million and seventy" reference intrigued me enough to Google it -- took more than 60 entries to find it...to save others the trouble, it's from the opening theme of "My Life as a Teenage Robot", an Emmy-winning animated series on Nickelodeon in 2003.)

a million and seventy

ding ding ding!

You're exactly right! I watch that show with my daughter.

This reminded me of a Star Trek episode

Where Riker, has been abducted by the Romulans. The Romulans wanted some secret info on a particular Federation installation if I remember right.

Hello Kaleigh!!! ^____^ ;-D

Riker drifted in and out of reality several times. He begin to wonder what is real and what is not. He did constantly see a young boy through out the episode. He eventualy realized he was real. But the boy also had a special gift where he could alter his appearance to be more suitable to Riker. The boy hid in a special cave that was set up by his parents to hide him. When it was all said and done, Riker broke out, Riker referred to the boy as his 'son' who turned out to be orphaned.

So..... the show must go on. I can't wait for the epilogue for this one. Just like your transgender stories. Just what is the moral to the story anyway?

Have a wonderful week. Finally I get to let my nails grow out from gnawing on them too much.... gigggle....

Rachel

Dreaming Reality

terrynaut's picture

It appears that Ida's horrible dinner induced a very long and elaborate lucid dream. I still don't know which is the true reality but I hope it's the one with Wiggy and the Amazons on the island. I get the feeling it's not though. *sigh*

I like the different dream sequences. I didn't try to look for clues or analyze the story. I just went with the flow and enjoyed it all.

Thanks. I look forward to seeing how it ends. :)

- Terry

My head...

Ouch! My head hurts! You are right, I take number. In fact I can't guess how this will end...
Robin

It was all a dream ...

... is the biggest deus ex machina cop out of all. I hate it. I once read an inconsequential novel I don't know how many decades ago but it remains burned in my brain; it was called 'Luke Branwhite' by Neil Bell. It describes the whole remarkable, adventurous life of the eponymous hero but in the very last part of the last chapter turns out to be merely the day dreams of a poor disabled newspaper seller. It totally destroyed the whole point of the book and I felt cheated.

Only Lewis Carrol has carried off such a device with any success and his creation of Wonderland is so fantastical that reality is suspended anyway. I suppose Americans may also claim 'The Wizard of Oz' but I felt cheated there too. I just think dream sequences used excessively are far too easy to use. I really, really hope that isn't the case here because the writing's too good for that. There are rather lots of holes in the plot here and there though. Fingers crossed :)

Geoff