The Child of the Meteor: Chapter 2

 

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Lynn awoke alone; the boy had disappeared. This seemed odd, but frankly Lynn thought it more odd that she woke up at all. The fire was so close it had seemed impossible to get away. But somehow the fire had vanished just like the boy.

As Lynn sat up she caught sight of her hands; scarlet burns crawled all along her palms, wrapping around her forearms and reaching up to her elbows. Every inch of her ached, and every movement made her red skin sting sharply. Her clothes were covered in ash and singe marks, and the heel of her left sneaker was slightly melted.

Stranger events had yet to occur, however, for as Lynn slowly stood up, a most peculiar sight unfolded before her.

The crater, which the night before had been nothing but dirt and rubble, now was speckled with the heads of blades of grass, like baby crops peeking up from soil. Scattered across the ground were bits of wood that did not look as though there were from any trees in the forest; instead they looked like they had splintered from planks. Perfectly white sand was lightly cast into all directions, yet there didn’t appear to be any source of sand within the woods. Torn cloth laid haphazardly across the sand and dirt, as though someone had thrown a blanket into a woodchipper. A few feet from the base of the meteor, there was a blast of color; reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues and every shade in between. There were skins and cores from nearly every fruit imaginable scattered, like some bizarre fruit bomb had exploded.

Then there was the meteor itself. It was about twenty feet wide and ten feet tall (since half of it was currently jammed under ground from the force of the impact), and contained a small basin of water at the top that trickled down the side like a creek. Moss was already beginning to grow on the edges of the rock, as though it had been in the forest for years.

Lynn’s head swam. I must be dreaming, she thought. I must have fallen asleep in the field last night and this is just one crazy dream.

“Hiya Lynn!”

With a scream, Lynn turned, and saw the boy, same as the night before, standing a few feet away with a number of branches in his arms. He smiled expectantly, then walked past her toward the meteor.

Hey, wait a second!” she shouted after him.

The boy turned, with a an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Just how do you know my name?” Lynn demanded.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

“What?”

“I don’t know why I know your name.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“How am I supposed to know why I don’t know why I know your name?”

“...Are you stupid?”

The boy simply shrugged again, then turned to climb up the side of the rock. He dumped the sticks and began arranging them into a neat pile. Without looking up, he said, “I just sort of had this word rattling around my head, like it was something from a dream that I had forgotten about. I just figured that it had to be your name.”

Lynn stared at the boy in silence for a few moments. He continued straightening up the

pile of sticks. The wind blew through the clearing and the leaves rustled above.

“Are you real?” she said quietly.

The boy raised his head. “Of course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Normal people don’t just know stranger’s names.”

“Well normal and real are two very different things. I may not be normal but that doesn’t

mean that I’m not real.”

“That’s some deep stuff.”

The boy shrugged, once again.

“So who are you exactly?” asked Lynn.

“Me?” the boy scratched the back of his head, “I’m not sure really.”

“Come on!”

“What?”

“You’ve gotta know who you are! Don’t you have a name?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know it.”

“Well what do people call you?”

The boy thought hard for a moment. “Orion?”

“What kind of a name is that?” Lynn retorted.

“I dunno, I made it up.”

“That’s not how it works! You don’t get to choose your name!”

The boy shrugged, “I did.”

Lynn frowned. “Just where did you come from?”

The boy returned her frown and said, “That’s a bit of a long story.”

“I’ll say. You only fell out of a sky on a meteor.”

“Mhm.”

“I guess I’m not gonna get any sort of explanation for that am I?”

Orion sighed. “I’m looking for someone, but Home is busted up so I’m not going to be able to go anywhere for a while.”

“Home?” Lynn asked.

He pointed at the meteor. “Home. It used to have this big sail and it would fly around and it was great! You should have seen her when she was new, there’s nothing else like it. But now the sail is...well everywhere.” Orion groaned and rubbed his face “Ughhh I’m gonna have to make another one and it’s gonna take so long and I don’t wanna do it but I hafta.”

Lynn suddenly got an idea. “I’ll help you fix it!” she said, “My dad used to fix up our house house all the time too. I’ll bet he has a bunch of tools and stuff sitting around in the basement somewhere. I’ll grab them and we can fix your Home.”

“Really?” Orion turned his head. “You’d do that? For me?”

Lynn shrugged and said “Nothing else has ever happened around here.”

She then turned and began the walk to her house. Over her shoulder, Lynn called out, “I’ll just go run back to the house to go get the…” Her voice petered out and she stopped in her tracks.

“What is it?” Orion asked.

“I’m dead.”

“What?”

Lynn just started running as fast as she could, leaving Orion in the distance to stare after her quizzically. Frantic thoughts raced through Lynn’s head even faster than her sprinting. He’s gonna kill me, he is definitely going to kill me, I am dead.

Lynn’s father had woken up that morning like any other, first by reaching blindly about to shut off the alarm, then stretching until the vertebrae of his back all cracked into place. The weak rays of light from the dawning sun dimly lit the room, which a jumbled mess of books and paperwork strewn about the floor, over the dresser, and on top of chair.

With eyes still drooping, he stepped over the clutter easily. To him, it was organized chaos, and he knew it very well. As he walked down the hall towards the stairs, he became aware of a strange silence coming from Lynn’s room. Though he would never tell her this, Lynn was a tremendous snorer, even in the waning hours of her sleep during mornings. Yet there was not as much as a ruffle of sheets coming from beyond her door.

Lynn’s father placed his hand on the doorknob and quietly turned it. He peeked his head into the room; Her bed was empty; Her window was open.

Her father was a frantic mixture of fury, nervousness, and confusion. Neither he nor Lynn knew quite how he would react to a given situation. Sometimes everything would blow over without any conflict, and sometimes he would have the police on the phone with the next 60 seconds.

When Lynn arrived at home there were already 3 police cruisers and a journalist. Even their third resident, Marley Lavender, had come down from the east tower of the house. The cops had bloodhounds on leashes and were already preparing to mount a search party when they saw Lynn.

“Evelyn!” Her father ran over wrapped his arms around her. “Where have you been? What were you thinking?”

As it happened, Lynn had no idea what she was thinking. Her mind was so cluttered with white noise that every possible excuse fizzled out before forming. How could she explain the tattered clothes, or the burns on her arms, or how she got out of the house?

“I...I um...I tripped,” Lynn sputtered.

“You what?” Her father recoiled. Lynn knew she was done for. “You were gone! You were just gone! And now you say you tripped?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No. Inside now.”

Lynn dragged her feet as she entered the house. Her father spoke briefly to the officers and then they began to return to their cruisers and drive away down the dirt path. Then he turned and entered the house himself, shutting the door swiftly behind him. Without another glance at Lynn, who was sitting on the fourth step on the staircase staring at her toes, he walked to the study and grabbed the phone off of his desk. After a few moments, he came around the base of the stairs and said.

“Doctor Sobol will be here in 15 minutes. Get out of those dirty clothes.”

Her father must have sounded serious on the phone because Dr. Sobol arrived in only 13 minutes. Dr. Sobol wore tan pants with a purple shirt that had a red bow tie under the collar, and in his left hand he carried a small medical bag. Lynn’s father met him at the door and and led him to the living room where Lynn was waiting, in clean clothes as instructed. Dr. Sobol took a seat in an armchair opposite the couch where Lynn sat.

He began checking over Lynn silently, pulling various instruments out of his bag for each test. After each test he jotted down some notes on a clipboard.

“Mr. Condor?” said Dr. Sobol, “Would you mind leaving us for a few moments? I’d just like to talk with Evelyn briefly.”

Her father nodded, and stepped out of the room, returning to his study down the hall. When the study doors had closed, Dr. Sobol turned to Lynn.

“You’ve given your father quite a scare. He does worry for you tremendously.”

Lynn stared down at her shoes and mumbled, “I know.”

“What exactly happened? You appear to be perfectly fine yet your father tells me that your clothes were torn and you smelled of smoke.”

Lynn’s head jerked up. She looked down over her arms, and the burns had faded. Her skin tingled slightly, but it longer pained her to move.

“Don’t you know what happened? Weren’t you awake?” Lynn asked.

“I don’t know what you mean, Evelyn. Yesterday was a night like any other.”

“No it wasn’t! You didn’t see the meteor, you didn’t hear anything?”

Doctor Sobol rubbed his chin. “Ah yes, now that you mention it I do remember hearing that there would be a meteor shower sometime. Was that last night? Is that what this is about?”

Lynn could hardly believe her ears. How could they possibly have missed hearing that rock blast a hole into the ground? And how did her burns just go away?

“I...I don’t know,” Lynn stammered.

“Evelyn, please.” The doctor was leaning in closer now.

Suddenly the front door opened again and Marley Lavender walked in. He took a look at Dr. Sobol let out a chuckle.

“Give it a rest Sobol, I mean look at her. She’s just fine. Probably just went sleepwalking again, kids do it all the time.”

Now Lynn’s father emerged from the study to see what the commotion was about.

Doctor Sobol turned to Lynn’s father and asked, “Mr. Conder, does Evelyn have a history of sleepwalking?”

Marley Lavender cut in before her father could answer, and said. “Of course she does. She’s been sleepwalking as long as I’ve been here. My sleep pills don’t work half the goddamn time, and thanks for that Sobol, but point is I hear her going about the halls at three in the morning just about every time I’m up then.”

Doctor Sobol rubbed his chin again. “Mr. Condor, I do believe that Evelyn is healthy in spite of whatever...sleepwalking may have occurred. However, I would recommend making sure that doors and windows are locked at night so that nothing worse happens. That really is all there is too it, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you Dr. Sobol,” said Lynn’s father, as he furrowed his brow.

As Doctor Sobol packed up his instruments and Lynn’s father lead him towards the door, Marley Lavender gave Lynn a subtle wink before disappearing up into the east tower. As the day marched on, her father decided to work from home for the day, seeking to prevent any further accidents.

Lynn wouldn’t be able to bring Orion his tools just yet.

Later that night, she laid in bed wide awake. A few moments prior, she had heard her father pacing the halls downstairs, going from window to window, to the front door and the rear, to ensure that all the exits and entrances to the house were locked.

All of this because of her supposed sleepwalking...yet Lynn could never recall an instance of herself sleepwalking before. Her father had never mentioned it, and she always seemed to end up in the same place in her bed in the morning. And she hadn’t been sleepwalking last night at all, had she? She never even went to bed. It couldn’t possibly have been a dream. It was so real, all of it.

Yet all of her injuries had vanished (not that she was complaining, it had been awfully painful moving about with burns covering her arms). It all seemed so strange. And then there was that sleeping boy, the strangest of all. Who was he? Where did he come from? How did he get here? Where was he going? And how could he have known her name?

Orion had a roundabout way of answering her questions. He would talk about the question itself and when he did get around to making a response it never seemed to make any sense at all, leaving even more questions than ever.

She would be more persistent tomorrow.