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Into the Wild - Online Novel
I am starting a free on-going online novel called Into the Wild. It's about two friends who are given the opportunity to leave today's world and live in a magical world. Check it out at
Alexander Collas Online
Alexander Collas Online
Into the Wild - Chapter 1
“They're still chasing us! Why won't those damn things give up?” Matt heard from behind him.
“Are kobolds supposed to be such dicks? I thought they hated the sun,” he yelled back as a bright flash whizzed past just missing his head.
Turning, he saw his friend, his travel companion, firing bolts from his fingers as fast as he could. They’d been through so much. Their adventures to dungeons, like this last one, sometimes brought them jewels and gold, while other times they found themselves running like cowards from a band of angry kobolds trying to save their asses. Watching the power in his friend magic reminded Matt just how far they’d come together.
They continued to run until they were both exhausted. Finally, dripping with sweat and blurry eyed, they stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he took a quick count. Only ten or so left. They had managed to reduce the number by almost half, a more manageable fight. Pulling his daggers, he took a deep breath and turned to see if his friend is ready as well.
Matt froze. His companion’s face… it was a blur; he couldn’t make out any of its features. With the attackers still growing closer, he searched his memory. Why couldn’t he remember his friend’s face? Who was this? Where were they? And more importantly, if he couldn’t remember the face, did even know who this was? What made him think it was a friend?
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“Are kobolds supposed to be such dicks? I thought they hated the sun,” he yelled back as a bright flash whizzed past just missing his head.
Turning, he saw his friend, his travel companion, firing bolts from his fingers as fast as he could. They’d been through so much. Their adventures to dungeons, like this last one, sometimes brought them jewels and gold, while other times they found themselves running like cowards from a band of angry kobolds trying to save their asses. Watching the power in his friend magic reminded Matt just how far they’d come together.
They continued to run until they were both exhausted. Finally, dripping with sweat and blurry eyed, they stopped. Looking back over his shoulder he took a quick count. Only ten or so left. They had managed to reduce the number by almost half, a more manageable fight. Pulling his daggers, he took a deep breath and turned to see if his friend is ready as well.
Matt froze. His companion’s face… it was a blur; he couldn’t make out any of its features. With the attackers still growing closer, he searched his memory. Why couldn’t he remember his friend’s face? Who was this? Where were they? And more importantly, if he couldn’t remember the face, did even know who this was? What made him think it was a friend?
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Into the Wild - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
That damn dream again. Every night for the last two weeks, the same dream. Matsugo sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. It was fucking strange. What did it mean? He pulled back the covers, shivering in the cold night air. The seasons had started their change; winter was knocking at the doors of Seattle.
In the dark, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need light. Matt had lived in this house for almost as long as he’d been alive. The only time he hadn’t awoken in this bed, in this room for that matter, was during his short attempt at college. But that ended when he had become an orphan. All three members of his family killed in a car accident. His mother and sister both died at the scene while sadly his father had lingered. The old man had never fully awoken in his hospital bed, finally passing away as well. In many ways, Mat felt his never waking was the last mercy this life could have shown the old man. He died never knowing that all he loved had already left to prepare his way.
Matt sat with his father for days, holding his hand, telling him he was getting better. The few times he stirred in his restless slumber, with all those tubes and wires snaking from his body, Matt had whispered that his beloved wife and daughter were waiting for him. He never knew if his father understood his lies, but then what else could a son do but lie? So, Matt did.
Finally, on that last morning, the old man opened his eyes. They had darted around, confused, until eventually finding his son, his adopted son, and there they locked. Matsugo smiled, hoping it was the start of a new day. That wasn’t to be, for as the edges of his father’s mouth curled up, bringing hope with the weak smile, he released his last breath and slipped from this world. In such a short time, Matsugo Chang had gone from having a disapproving family to being alone. It’s strange how once they were gone, he realized even a disappointed family was better than none.
Matt walked into the bathroom, his nude body shivering from the cold. He stood in front of the toilet and relaxed, allowing the stream of urine to flow as he looked out the window above the toilet.
His life had been understandable once. Now his family was gone, and he lived in the house he had spent most of his youth trying to escape. Money wasn’t a problem. His parents had been frugal and, once the lawyers and tax people were gone, they’d left him with a nice nest egg from their savings and insurance money. But still…
He shook, allowing the last drop to fall into the water below. He turned, catching a glimpse of himself dusted by the moonlight in the full-length mirror beside the tub. He should get his hair cut; his mother hated it when it got this long. The jet-black locks were now down to his shoulders, hanging in his face. He’d resorted to pulling it back into a stump of a ponytail. He liked it long. He didn’t consider himself arrogant, but he was attractive. He had always enjoyed working out. The strain settled his mind. He wished he was taller, standing just a little over five and a half feet. He chuckled about how that half a foot mattered, at least to him.
His body had almost no hair even a mustache was hard to grow. His chest, arms, legs, and ass were as smooth as a baby’s butt. When he wore speedos to the beach, the tight ass and the way his lines flowed into each other ensured both sexes would notice him. He didn’t have a body-builders, overdone physique, but the subtler frame of a swimmer. The perfection of his chest was only interrupted by two small barbell piercings, one in each nipple. His pecs slid down onto his abs which flowed across his stomach like small waves on a calm day, ending in his jet-black pubes that curled around his cock. He’d lucked out; his manhood was perfect for his frame, long, uncut and wide. He and his cock had become fast friends while in high school. It had been the only hobby other than video games he’d found he was any good at.
He’d heard all the jokes in the locker room — the rumor about Asians having small cocks. In his years of sleeping with other Asian men, he’d found that myth to most certainly not be true. He’d been born Japanese but adopted by a white family. His parents and sister were Caucasian, so he had grown up in a typical middle-class white household. His Asian friends joked he was nothing more than a white man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes.
He’d tried to hang on to aspects of his birth parents’ culture, but like all things you are distant from, those parts you know, you forget, and the parts you don’t, you never bother to learn.
As he crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his goose-bumped skin he noticed movement across the room. He dismissed thinking it was his curtains and settled back onto his pillow. Then he realized, wait the window wasn’t over there.
In shock, he sat up and almost screamed. There, in the chair beside his desk, sat a man.
“Who are you?” he barked as he backed out of bed, putting it between him and the stranger. The man looked him up and down. It was then he remembered he was nude. Flushing red, Matt grabbed his pillow, placing it over his midsection. “I said who are you and why are you in my house?”
“You insisted I visit, you won’t answer your dreams,” the stranger said calmly.
“Answer my dreams! What the hell are you talking about?”
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That damn dream again. Every night for the last two weeks, the same dream. Matsugo sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. It was fucking strange. What did it mean? He pulled back the covers, shivering in the cold night air. The seasons had started their change; winter was knocking at the doors of Seattle.
In the dark, he walked to the bathroom. He didn’t need light. Matt had lived in this house for almost as long as he’d been alive. The only time he hadn’t awoken in this bed, in this room for that matter, was during his short attempt at college. But that ended when he had become an orphan. All three members of his family killed in a car accident. His mother and sister both died at the scene while sadly his father had lingered. The old man had never fully awoken in his hospital bed, finally passing away as well. In many ways, Mat felt his never waking was the last mercy this life could have shown the old man. He died never knowing that all he loved had already left to prepare his way.
Matt sat with his father for days, holding his hand, telling him he was getting better. The few times he stirred in his restless slumber, with all those tubes and wires snaking from his body, Matt had whispered that his beloved wife and daughter were waiting for him. He never knew if his father understood his lies, but then what else could a son do but lie? So, Matt did.
Finally, on that last morning, the old man opened his eyes. They had darted around, confused, until eventually finding his son, his adopted son, and there they locked. Matsugo smiled, hoping it was the start of a new day. That wasn’t to be, for as the edges of his father’s mouth curled up, bringing hope with the weak smile, he released his last breath and slipped from this world. In such a short time, Matsugo Chang had gone from having a disapproving family to being alone. It’s strange how once they were gone, he realized even a disappointed family was better than none.
Matt walked into the bathroom, his nude body shivering from the cold. He stood in front of the toilet and relaxed, allowing the stream of urine to flow as he looked out the window above the toilet.
His life had been understandable once. Now his family was gone, and he lived in the house he had spent most of his youth trying to escape. Money wasn’t a problem. His parents had been frugal and, once the lawyers and tax people were gone, they’d left him with a nice nest egg from their savings and insurance money. But still…
He shook, allowing the last drop to fall into the water below. He turned, catching a glimpse of himself dusted by the moonlight in the full-length mirror beside the tub. He should get his hair cut; his mother hated it when it got this long. The jet-black locks were now down to his shoulders, hanging in his face. He’d resorted to pulling it back into a stump of a ponytail. He liked it long. He didn’t consider himself arrogant, but he was attractive. He had always enjoyed working out. The strain settled his mind. He wished he was taller, standing just a little over five and a half feet. He chuckled about how that half a foot mattered, at least to him.
His body had almost no hair even a mustache was hard to grow. His chest, arms, legs, and ass were as smooth as a baby’s butt. When he wore speedos to the beach, the tight ass and the way his lines flowed into each other ensured both sexes would notice him. He didn’t have a body-builders, overdone physique, but the subtler frame of a swimmer. The perfection of his chest was only interrupted by two small barbell piercings, one in each nipple. His pecs slid down onto his abs which flowed across his stomach like small waves on a calm day, ending in his jet-black pubes that curled around his cock. He’d lucked out; his manhood was perfect for his frame, long, uncut and wide. He and his cock had become fast friends while in high school. It had been the only hobby other than video games he’d found he was any good at.
He’d heard all the jokes in the locker room — the rumor about Asians having small cocks. In his years of sleeping with other Asian men, he’d found that myth to most certainly not be true. He’d been born Japanese but adopted by a white family. His parents and sister were Caucasian, so he had grown up in a typical middle-class white household. His Asian friends joked he was nothing more than a white man with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes.
He’d tried to hang on to aspects of his birth parents’ culture, but like all things you are distant from, those parts you know, you forget, and the parts you don’t, you never bother to learn.
As he crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over his goose-bumped skin he noticed movement across the room. He dismissed thinking it was his curtains and settled back onto his pillow. Then he realized, wait the window wasn’t over there.
In shock, he sat up and almost screamed. There, in the chair beside his desk, sat a man.
“Who are you?” he barked as he backed out of bed, putting it between him and the stranger. The man looked him up and down. It was then he remembered he was nude. Flushing red, Matt grabbed his pillow, placing it over his midsection. “I said who are you and why are you in my house?”
“You insisted I visit, you won’t answer your dreams,” the stranger said calmly.
“Answer my dreams! What the hell are you talking about?”
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Into the Wild - Chapter 3
Into the Wild – Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Matt found a pair of boxers on the floor and pulled them on as he crawled back in bed, his pillow shield still in place. The two sat quietly, Matt studying the strangely dressed old man, trying to decide how best to deal with an intruder. Not only was he in his house, but in his bedroom. How’d he get in?
The odd-looking old man was wearing a dark green pair of tights -- yes, tights -- with a lighter green tunic secured by a belt from which hung a dozen leather bags. His hair was cropped short almost like a drill sergeant and matched his mustache and beard which were equally as short and snow white.
“So, are you ready to listen? We don’t make offers like this often, and I don’t plan on sitting around here all night while you decide not to piss yourself,” said the guy in a soft voice.
“Listen, you broke into my house,” answered Matt, deciding to play along. Maybe this whole thing was just a continuation of the dream. He had heard of dreams within dreams. “What’s this about me not answering my dreams?”
“What have you been dreaming of lately? You know the recurring one?”
“You mean the one about the little lizard guys…”
He interrupted, “Kobolds.”
“Right, that’s what I called them in my dream. We explored a dungeon to do some treasure hunting, me and a friend. Well, I think he was a friend. I’ve never been able to see his face.” Shaking his head, Matt continued, “Anyway, we ended up getting chased through a field by those… kobolds. I always wake up about then; I have no idea how it ends.”
“I know. That’s all we’re giving you. And the reason you cannot see your friend’s face is that you haven’t chosen him yet.”
“What do you mean ‘given me’? I haven’t chosen my friend yet? What? Who are you? It’s time you stop all this mystery shit and get on with whatever it is you feel is worth breaking and entering over.”
“Fine, typically the person gets what we are doing by now and tends to be somewhat more receptive even if they don’t fully believe. You’re going to be one of those harder cases.”
Matt made circling motions with his hand. “You know, if I’m awake, I’ve got things to do tomorrow. Can we get on with this?”
“I also see why you’re a contender. OK, believe it or not, those dreams you’ve been having are not dreams, but programmed scenarios to see if you’re interested in taking a leap of faith that would change your life.”
Sitting up, leaning forward and resting his hands on the pillow, Matt asked, “What are you talking about? What leap of faith?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, would you be interested in living a life like the one you saw in your dreams? A life where you no longer live in this world but another? Where magic, strange animals, and the mysteries you have so enjoyed in all those books you read on that little device, are real?”[PE1]
Half laughing to himself, Matt said, “Clearly I’m still dreaming. Let me see if I’m getting this right. You’re offering to take me to a place that’s like all those fantasy books I read?”
“Exactly, you got it in one. I was starting to think you weren’t near as smart as I’d heard you were.”
“Fuck you, buddy.”
“Maybe later. OK…” The strange man stood. “Let me do this right. First, I should introduce myself; I am Eluard. I’m a recruiter. I’m sent out, on occasion, to find individual souls that don’t fit in their current time, and I work to relocate them into more useful lives.”
“Oh, do you?[PE2] Let's just say for a moment that I believe you, which I don’t. That this isn’t the most fucked up, crock of shit dream I’ve ever had, which it is. How exactly would this relocation happen?”
“That’s a good sign. At least, you’ve not started screaming and running around like a crazy person, questioning your sanity,” the old man said making an approving face.
“I’m saving that for later after you leave.”
“Very kind of you. From the looks of it, you could probably hit a pretty high whining pitch, and that’s always hard on the ears.”
“Again, fuck you. So, what now? You can’t think I believe what you’re telling me. I’m still going over what I had for dinner last night that would’ve caused such screwed-up dreams.”
“Well, now for the hard part of my visit, proving to you that this is, in fact, not a dream or a delusion, but real. Because once you decide, there’s no turning back.”
Matt leaned against the headboard, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, at least this should be entertaining. Go ahead, convince me.”
Looking out the window, deep in thought, the old man said[PE3] , “It’s later than I expected, and I have a feeling nothing I say here is going to sway you. Let’s do this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Walking over he placed it on the top of the mirror above Matt’s dresser “There. Now you’ll have to have to make a conscious decision to pick that up. Do so when you’re ready and address it.”
“Address it? What like ’Hello, Coin!’,” laughed Matt.
“That’ll do. Then you’ll be brought to me. Well, you’ll be brought to the Waypost, not actually to me. Then we can continue this conversation.” Turning to face Matt, the old man bowed slightly and said, “Good night!” then vanished.
Matt sat staring at the place where the stranger had stood then rolled his eyes. Finally, scooting back down under his blankets, satisfied with the quality of this dream he fell back to sleep.
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Chapter 3
Matt found a pair of boxers on the floor and pulled them on as he crawled back in bed, his pillow shield still in place. The two sat quietly, Matt studying the strangely dressed old man, trying to decide how best to deal with an intruder. Not only was he in his house, but in his bedroom. How’d he get in?
The odd-looking old man was wearing a dark green pair of tights -- yes, tights -- with a lighter green tunic secured by a belt from which hung a dozen leather bags. His hair was cropped short almost like a drill sergeant and matched his mustache and beard which were equally as short and snow white.
“So, are you ready to listen? We don’t make offers like this often, and I don’t plan on sitting around here all night while you decide not to piss yourself,” said the guy in a soft voice.
“Listen, you broke into my house,” answered Matt, deciding to play along. Maybe this whole thing was just a continuation of the dream. He had heard of dreams within dreams. “What’s this about me not answering my dreams?”
“What have you been dreaming of lately? You know the recurring one?”
“You mean the one about the little lizard guys…”
He interrupted, “Kobolds.”
“Right, that’s what I called them in my dream. We explored a dungeon to do some treasure hunting, me and a friend. Well, I think he was a friend. I’ve never been able to see his face.” Shaking his head, Matt continued, “Anyway, we ended up getting chased through a field by those… kobolds. I always wake up about then; I have no idea how it ends.”
“I know. That’s all we’re giving you. And the reason you cannot see your friend’s face is that you haven’t chosen him yet.”
“What do you mean ‘given me’? I haven’t chosen my friend yet? What? Who are you? It’s time you stop all this mystery shit and get on with whatever it is you feel is worth breaking and entering over.”
“Fine, typically the person gets what we are doing by now and tends to be somewhat more receptive even if they don’t fully believe. You’re going to be one of those harder cases.”
Matt made circling motions with his hand. “You know, if I’m awake, I’ve got things to do tomorrow. Can we get on with this?”
“I also see why you’re a contender. OK, believe it or not, those dreams you’ve been having are not dreams, but programmed scenarios to see if you’re interested in taking a leap of faith that would change your life.”
Sitting up, leaning forward and resting his hands on the pillow, Matt asked, “What are you talking about? What leap of faith?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, would you be interested in living a life like the one you saw in your dreams? A life where you no longer live in this world but another? Where magic, strange animals, and the mysteries you have so enjoyed in all those books you read on that little device, are real?”[PE1]
Half laughing to himself, Matt said, “Clearly I’m still dreaming. Let me see if I’m getting this right. You’re offering to take me to a place that’s like all those fantasy books I read?”
“Exactly, you got it in one. I was starting to think you weren’t near as smart as I’d heard you were.”
“Fuck you, buddy.”
“Maybe later. OK…” The strange man stood. “Let me do this right. First, I should introduce myself; I am Eluard. I’m a recruiter. I’m sent out, on occasion, to find individual souls that don’t fit in their current time, and I work to relocate them into more useful lives.”
“Oh, do you?[PE2] Let's just say for a moment that I believe you, which I don’t. That this isn’t the most fucked up, crock of shit dream I’ve ever had, which it is. How exactly would this relocation happen?”
“That’s a good sign. At least, you’ve not started screaming and running around like a crazy person, questioning your sanity,” the old man said making an approving face.
“I’m saving that for later after you leave.”
“Very kind of you. From the looks of it, you could probably hit a pretty high whining pitch, and that’s always hard on the ears.”
“Again, fuck you. So, what now? You can’t think I believe what you’re telling me. I’m still going over what I had for dinner last night that would’ve caused such screwed-up dreams.”
“Well, now for the hard part of my visit, proving to you that this is, in fact, not a dream or a delusion, but real. Because once you decide, there’s no turning back.”
Matt leaned against the headboard, putting his hands behind his head. “Well, at least this should be entertaining. Go ahead, convince me.”
Looking out the window, deep in thought, the old man said[PE3] , “It’s later than I expected, and I have a feeling nothing I say here is going to sway you. Let’s do this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. Walking over he placed it on the top of the mirror above Matt’s dresser “There. Now you’ll have to have to make a conscious decision to pick that up. Do so when you’re ready and address it.”
“Address it? What like ’Hello, Coin!’,” laughed Matt.
“That’ll do. Then you’ll be brought to me. Well, you’ll be brought to the Waypost, not actually to me. Then we can continue this conversation.” Turning to face Matt, the old man bowed slightly and said, “Good night!” then vanished.
Matt sat staring at the place where the stranger had stood then rolled his eyes. Finally, scooting back down under his blankets, satisfied with the quality of this dream he fell back to sleep.
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Into the Wild - Chapter 4
Chapter 4
When Matt opened his eyes the following morning, he was surprised to find the sun already coming high through the blinds. Glancing over he barked as he discovered it was just after noon. Why’d he slept so late?
He crawled out from under his covers shaking his head and cursing. He preferred to start his day more pre than post-sunrise if he could help it. He walked into the bathroom thinking about the errands he needed to run, removed his boxers, realized he needed to pee and then spend a couple of seconds deciding pre or post-shower. He climbed in the shower, turned on the water, and as he lathered up his hair let a steady stream of last night’s beer flow out and down the drain. Halfway through, he froze, shampoo still in his hair, as his eyes sprang open. Cursing the burn, he ran dripping back into his bedroom to stand staring up at the dresser. There on top of the mirror sat a gold coin. Eyes wide, had said, “Seriously?”
Matt raced back to the shower to wash the burning shampoo out and decided to stand under the pounding hot stream for a while, still not believing it’d all been real.
Just as he was beginning to dry off the phone rang, reminding him that he had a brunch date with his best friend, Devon.
Answering, not even giving his friend a chance to speak, Matt said, “Sorry, I overslept. I’m just finishing my shower. I should be there in twenty minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got to go to work. Let’s meet for dinner tomorrow night instead, if you have time,” answered Devin.
“That works better for me. See you then.” He answered as he heard a click and hung up.
Slowly sinking on to his bed, his eyes, again found their way to the coin. “Could last night’s dream have been real?”
Walking over he reached up, then stopped himself. The old man had said when he was ready just to take the coin. Was he ready? He shook his head. Was he ready? He thought. Did that mean he believed this foolishness?
He walked away. He spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, running to the store for groceries, and keeping himself busy with all the other chores he’d been putting off. It wasn’t until evening he realized he hadn’t, in fact, been catching up, as much as he’d been filling the time between the moments he’d spent sitting on the end of his bed staring at the coin.
He sat watching himself in the mirror but not for long; his eyes kept drifting back to the gold disk, replacing him in his vision. Here he was at the end of the day, the sun disappearing behind the trees, sitting a foot from his dresser and the mirror upon which a mystery rested.
All day, his mind had been a crazy mad dash between thoughts, the coin and what the old man claimed it could do. It wasn’t the coin that was the mystery; it was here, he could see it. It was the offer. It was the thought, if it was true, of what it could mean. What it could give him. Did he not like his life? Did he want to leave it behind forever? Could he abandon this world and all the people he knew to live someplace like the ones to which he’d escaped so often in his books?
What had started as a coin when he’d awoken had slowly throughout the day morphed into a ticket. Now it wasn’t about what could happen as much as if he dared to take that trip. He realized his life had already changed, simply by being forced to make the decision, was this life worth giving up.
As the last rays of sun hit the hardwood floor, he reached up and took the coin…
When Matt opened his eyes the following morning, he was surprised to find the sun already coming high through the blinds. Glancing over he barked as he discovered it was just after noon. Why’d he slept so late?
He crawled out from under his covers shaking his head and cursing. He preferred to start his day more pre than post-sunrise if he could help it. He walked into the bathroom thinking about the errands he needed to run, removed his boxers, realized he needed to pee and then spend a couple of seconds deciding pre or post-shower. He climbed in the shower, turned on the water, and as he lathered up his hair let a steady stream of last night’s beer flow out and down the drain. Halfway through, he froze, shampoo still in his hair, as his eyes sprang open. Cursing the burn, he ran dripping back into his bedroom to stand staring up at the dresser. There on top of the mirror sat a gold coin. Eyes wide, had said, “Seriously?”
Matt raced back to the shower to wash the burning shampoo out and decided to stand under the pounding hot stream for a while, still not believing it’d all been real.
Just as he was beginning to dry off the phone rang, reminding him that he had a brunch date with his best friend, Devon.
Answering, not even giving his friend a chance to speak, Matt said, “Sorry, I overslept. I’m just finishing my shower. I should be there in twenty minutes.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got to go to work. Let’s meet for dinner tomorrow night instead, if you have time,” answered Devin.
“That works better for me. See you then.” He answered as he heard a click and hung up.
Slowly sinking on to his bed, his eyes, again found their way to the coin. “Could last night’s dream have been real?”
Walking over he reached up, then stopped himself. The old man had said when he was ready just to take the coin. Was he ready? He shook his head. Was he ready? He thought. Did that mean he believed this foolishness?
He walked away. He spent the day cleaning house, doing laundry, running to the store for groceries, and keeping himself busy with all the other chores he’d been putting off. It wasn’t until evening he realized he hadn’t, in fact, been catching up, as much as he’d been filling the time between the moments he’d spent sitting on the end of his bed staring at the coin.
He sat watching himself in the mirror but not for long; his eyes kept drifting back to the gold disk, replacing him in his vision. Here he was at the end of the day, the sun disappearing behind the trees, sitting a foot from his dresser and the mirror upon which a mystery rested.
All day, his mind had been a crazy mad dash between thoughts, the coin and what the old man claimed it could do. It wasn’t the coin that was the mystery; it was here, he could see it. It was the offer. It was the thought, if it was true, of what it could mean. What it could give him. Did he not like his life? Did he want to leave it behind forever? Could he abandon this world and all the people he knew to live someplace like the ones to which he’d escaped so often in his books?
What had started as a coin when he’d awoken had slowly throughout the day morphed into a ticket. Now it wasn’t about what could happen as much as if he dared to take that trip. He realized his life had already changed, simply by being forced to make the decision, was this life worth giving up.
As the last rays of sun hit the hardwood floor, he reached up and took the coin…
Into the Wild - Chapter 5
Matt wasn’t sure what he expected. His bedroom started to dim as if the sun was going down but continued until finally, he was standing in absolute blackness. For the first few seconds he remained calm but as time ticked on his resolve began to fail. What had he gotten himself into? Then, just as he was about to panic, off in the distance, he saw a dim light.
The sunlight started to grow just as it had faded, but this time it was different somehow. It kept getting brighter, so bright in fact; he had to shield his eyes. Once more he felt like this was a test. The time ticked on endlessly again pushing him towards his breaking point. Then, through the cracks of his fingers, he noticed the intensity begin to dim. He removed his hand and blinked several times.
He was standing in a field; the grass was knee deep and bright green scattered with wildflowers. Across the plains, he could see mountains. As he looked around, he noticed they surrounded the field, isolating it from wherever lay outside.
Behind him, a few yards back, sat a small gazebo outfitted with two chairs and a table. He rolled his eyes; clearly, this was the “meeting” place the old man had mentioned.
He strolled through the wildflowers, the pleasant smells filling his nose and pissing off his unsettled mind. Flowers weren’t what he needed right now. The gazebo was wooden and covered with a canopy of more flowers, vining pink ones this time. He walked up the two steps onto the deck and found sitting on the table a dusty bottle and two glasses. He sat down, pulled the cork and poured himself a generous portion of the dark red liquid.
Just as he lifted it to his lips, “Well that’s rude. You can pour me one as well,” said the old man as he too walked up, taking the seat across from Matt.
“Hey this is my delusion, and until just now you weren’t here,” Matt replied.
“Well, clearly I am now, so please do me the honor,” Eluard smiled. “I see you decided to pick up the coin.”
“No shit,” answered Matt as he filled the goblet and handed it across to the old man. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Are we past the ‘I don’t believe you’ phase? Can we get on with the proposition?”
“Yes, please. And just give me the highlights, then I’ll ask questions.”
“I’d prefer it that way. Do you want the ‘why this is happening’ speech or just the details of what we’re offering?”
“A short version of why is fine, but does it matter if I accept the offer? I think not.”
The old man nodded. “We find people who are uniquely out of their time and offer them relocation. Now before you ask, yes, a lot of people feel they’re not in the right time and many are correct. That doesn’t mean we offer them all relocation. For a person is eligible, there must be a real disconnect from the time and place where they currently reside. They must suit their future home better than they do their current one. They must have befriended someone in their present time that is also suited to the new time. And finally, they must have something unique to offer their new world.”
“And I fit these criteria?”
“Very much so. At least, we think so. The reason for the interview is to ensure there is the desire before we move forward.”
“The desire on my part I take it. Out of curiosity, how many people turn you down?”
“Yes, both you and your travel partner must want to relocate. As for how many turn us down, roughly half.”
Matt took a long drink while he ingested what the old man had just said. The wine was good. Sitting back in his wicker chair, he questioned, “Half, huh? That's interesting.” Chewing his inner lip and staring up at the canopy of flowers, he added, “I guess my first question would be, you said I’d need to have something to offer the other world. What do I have?”
“Why would I tell you that? It’s a discovery you must make for yourself. We’re not sending you there on a mission. Yes, we might be hoping you can help that world or someone on it, but the overriding reason is still we feel it will be good for you. To ensure you don’t get an ego, you won the coin toss.” Smiling, he added, “Yes, that’s often how we decide between multiple candidates.”
“Great. It’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this.” He paused, then realized something. “Wait, you said I had to have a friend that met the same criteria and was willing to go. Who is it in my case?”
“You tell me. If you could pick anyone you know to go with you on this journey, who would it be?” Asked Eluard.
Matt chewed the inside of his cheek and thought… Who indeed? It wasn’t a great mystery; he’d take Devon. They were the best of friends. They both loved the same kind of stories, and they were already like brothers. “Devon.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled with delight. “See? You got it in one.”
“What if I hadn’t picked the right person?”
“It wouldn’t matter; you know your friends better than we do. You and Devon just happened to both show up on our radar, so to speak, which helped in the choosing. If you hadn’t picked him, we would research whomever you might’ve suggested to accompany you on the trip.”
“What if that person didn’t match? You did say they had to match, right?”
“Yes, we would tell you and suggest a better-suited candidate. The familiarity isn’t always a deal breaker; sometimes there are two of the same world who are unacquainted. This is more often due to geographical location than incompatibility. Most become the friends we exact them to become shortly after meeting. I’m sure the added challenge of a new world and the common bond with the old one also helps bring them together.”
Matt shrugged. “Makes sense. OK, so we have the why and the who. What I need to know now is the how.”
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The sunlight started to grow just as it had faded, but this time it was different somehow. It kept getting brighter, so bright in fact; he had to shield his eyes. Once more he felt like this was a test. The time ticked on endlessly again pushing him towards his breaking point. Then, through the cracks of his fingers, he noticed the intensity begin to dim. He removed his hand and blinked several times.
He was standing in a field; the grass was knee deep and bright green scattered with wildflowers. Across the plains, he could see mountains. As he looked around, he noticed they surrounded the field, isolating it from wherever lay outside.
Behind him, a few yards back, sat a small gazebo outfitted with two chairs and a table. He rolled his eyes; clearly, this was the “meeting” place the old man had mentioned.
He strolled through the wildflowers, the pleasant smells filling his nose and pissing off his unsettled mind. Flowers weren’t what he needed right now. The gazebo was wooden and covered with a canopy of more flowers, vining pink ones this time. He walked up the two steps onto the deck and found sitting on the table a dusty bottle and two glasses. He sat down, pulled the cork and poured himself a generous portion of the dark red liquid.
Just as he lifted it to his lips, “Well that’s rude. You can pour me one as well,” said the old man as he too walked up, taking the seat across from Matt.
“Hey this is my delusion, and until just now you weren’t here,” Matt replied.
“Well, clearly I am now, so please do me the honor,” Eluard smiled. “I see you decided to pick up the coin.”
“No shit,” answered Matt as he filled the goblet and handed it across to the old man. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Are we past the ‘I don’t believe you’ phase? Can we get on with the proposition?”
“Yes, please. And just give me the highlights, then I’ll ask questions.”
“I’d prefer it that way. Do you want the ‘why this is happening’ speech or just the details of what we’re offering?”
“A short version of why is fine, but does it matter if I accept the offer? I think not.”
The old man nodded. “We find people who are uniquely out of their time and offer them relocation. Now before you ask, yes, a lot of people feel they’re not in the right time and many are correct. That doesn’t mean we offer them all relocation. For a person is eligible, there must be a real disconnect from the time and place where they currently reside. They must suit their future home better than they do their current one. They must have befriended someone in their present time that is also suited to the new time. And finally, they must have something unique to offer their new world.”
“And I fit these criteria?”
“Very much so. At least, we think so. The reason for the interview is to ensure there is the desire before we move forward.”
“The desire on my part I take it. Out of curiosity, how many people turn you down?”
“Yes, both you and your travel partner must want to relocate. As for how many turn us down, roughly half.”
Matt took a long drink while he ingested what the old man had just said. The wine was good. Sitting back in his wicker chair, he questioned, “Half, huh? That's interesting.” Chewing his inner lip and staring up at the canopy of flowers, he added, “I guess my first question would be, you said I’d need to have something to offer the other world. What do I have?”
“Why would I tell you that? It’s a discovery you must make for yourself. We’re not sending you there on a mission. Yes, we might be hoping you can help that world or someone on it, but the overriding reason is still we feel it will be good for you. To ensure you don’t get an ego, you won the coin toss.” Smiling, he added, “Yes, that’s often how we decide between multiple candidates.”
“Great. It’s good to know you put a lot of thought into this.” He paused, then realized something. “Wait, you said I had to have a friend that met the same criteria and was willing to go. Who is it in my case?”
“You tell me. If you could pick anyone you know to go with you on this journey, who would it be?” Asked Eluard.
Matt chewed the inside of his cheek and thought… Who indeed? It wasn’t a great mystery; he’d take Devon. They were the best of friends. They both loved the same kind of stories, and they were already like brothers. “Devon.”
The old man’s eyes twinkled with delight. “See? You got it in one.”
“What if I hadn’t picked the right person?”
“It wouldn’t matter; you know your friends better than we do. You and Devon just happened to both show up on our radar, so to speak, which helped in the choosing. If you hadn’t picked him, we would research whomever you might’ve suggested to accompany you on the trip.”
“What if that person didn’t match? You did say they had to match, right?”
“Yes, we would tell you and suggest a better-suited candidate. The familiarity isn’t always a deal breaker; sometimes there are two of the same world who are unacquainted. This is more often due to geographical location than incompatibility. Most become the friends we exact them to become shortly after meeting. I’m sure the added challenge of a new world and the common bond with the old one also helps bring them together.”
Matt shrugged. “Makes sense. OK, so we have the why and the who. What I need to know now is the how.”
