the grey world - a short story (the sequel to the burning bridge)
He doesn’t make a sound as he inches towards me, but I know that he is there. I can feel his presence, like a sort of pressure surrounding me.
“I suppose you’re here to torch this bridge as well,” I say.
He is standing directly beside me now, “Will I need to?”
Without turning to him I answer, “No, that won’t be necessary. I know what I need to do.”
“Then why have you yet to do it?”
“I’m trying to,” I pause as I try to think of the correct way to phrase it, “understand.”
“Understand?”
“Yeah. I’ve been examining it,” I stand up and walk towards the bridge, behind me I know that he is following, “trying to see what it was that caused this one to go so badly,” we arrive at the entrance to the bridge, “you see, everything seems okay right here. The work put in at the beginning was solid. I mean, it’s definitely not perfect, but it was definitely strong enough to support us,” I step onto the bridge and walk down to the center, with each step I take metal and wood become weaker, and far less stable. After a few steps I stop, knowing at this point it’s not safe to continue. The metal here is rusted beyond repair and the wood is rapidly decaying by the second. Going further would surely result in falling into the crevice. “It’s here where things started to go bad. I was careless and didn’t lay the foundation correctly and, well, it resulted in this. On the other side, however, she just kind of gave up,” I look to the other end to see if I can see her but she is gone, “where she is now, I haven’t the faintest clue.”
“And what is it that you’ve learned so far?” he asks.
“Well, not much.” I chuckle softly, “I mean, I suppose if I learned anything it’s that the work that she and I put forth at the beginning was amazing. But as we got closer to the end, we teetered off and stopped putting forth that same effort, or anything close to it, really. And before, when things got hard, we would motivate one another from afar, but eventually that stopped working. It just became hard and well, one day she just stopped showing up and that was the end of it. I guess it got too hard for her. To difficult to continue working.”
“It always will be difficult, though.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. And if she couldn’t handle it then, better that she quit then build a bridge that would never support us, like I was.”
Behind me the figure is heading back to my world. I turn to follow him. He’s the same as I remember him, perhaps maybe taller now, though. The hood he wears is still there, and I’m sure that it’s still hiding his face. This phantom.. this stranger.. just like before, he brings me comfort with his presence. It is when we reach solid ground that he finally turns to me and we see each other, face to masked-face.
“Shall we finish this then?” he asks.
I turn away from him and towards the bridge. It has to be burned. I know that. But it’s hard. As he said, it always will be. How could it not? To put so much effort into something only to lay waste to it. It would be impossible not to feel something. But this feeling in my gut, unlike last time, isn’t sorrow. It’s anger. I’m angry that I have to do this, because I figured I’d never have to torch another bridge. That this would be it. My final time.
I was wrong.
And while I know it’s okay, I also know that it’s not okay. I know that my anger is justifiable, but also that I cannot allow myself to let it to envelope and dictate who I am and what I will do next.
No.
I will take this for what it is. A lesson. I will learn from it, and I shall grow. I will forgive myself and the other individual who worked on this bridge, but I shall not forget.
Yes.
I have to do this. I have to rid myself of this burden and allow myself the opportunity to move forward.
“Do you have the match?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I reach out my hand behind me and he places a lit match between my fingers. I bring my arm in and move the lit match close to my face, admiring the flame. I look at the bridge again, take one last glance and commit it to my memory. I’ll never forget what transpired here.
I toss the match onto the bridge and watch.
It happens in an instant. The match falls onto the bridge. The fire spreads throughout it entirely, burning fast and strong. It shines bright, brighter than any fire before it, and I do not turn away this time.
No.
I watch as it burns and disappears into nothingness.
And as it disappears I feel a weight alleviate from my chest. No longer is it weighing me down.
Yes.
The bridge has been burnt. The connection has been severed.
It’s time to move on.
For a moment I forget that he is still standing behind me until he says, “how do you feel, Nicholas?”
I am unsure as how to answer that so I say, “Good. Bad. Goad? Is that a word? It should be.” I smile softly and turn to him, “it was difficult, but it needed to be done.”
“Yes, now the world can continue to move forward.”
“The world can continue to move forward?” I ask, intrigued.
“Yes. In time you will understand.”
“Of course,” I scoff jokingly, “you and all your grand mysteries. I don’t know if I should even trust you, especially after you lied to me last time.”
“Hmm,” he replies inquisitively.
“Don’t be coy with me. You lied when you showed me that bridge off in the distance. Making me walk in, what I now realize was, a giant circle.”
“Hmm,” he says again, this time confirming that this was true.
“But,” I continue, “I understand why you did it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. It was necessary for you to find a way to get me to leave this place, even if it was only temporarily. At that time you told me that I was fixated on that bridge because it was all that I knew, and you were right. I couldn’t stay here because if I didn’t leave I would never understand what this place is.. this world of mine. You had me leave so that I could understand it, understand exactly what this place is. If I had stayed here.. well, it would’ve amounted to the same thing occurring that did last time,” I chuckle as I face the crevice, where the previous bridges once stood, “and even though it did happen again, at least this time the result was far different. I’m not crying or lashing out at you because of this. I’m taking this for what it is. A lesson.”
“And what lesson did you learn?”
“I learned that I need to be careful with who I work with, and that if I’m going to create something with someone.. well, then I need to be prepared to constantly put forth my all in it.”
A moment of silence passes before he asks, “What will you do now, Nicholas?”
“Hmm? Well, build of course.”
“Build?” he asks, “here?”
“Yes,” I reply, “this is my world now.” I face away from the crevice and towards the emptiness behind me, “I remember you once told me that this place was not my home, and at the time I suppose you were right. I wasn’t ready to call this place home. I was far too immature.. too inexperienced to handle the idea of being here on my own. I needed to have my friends and family to support me at that time. I wasn’t ready then, but now I think that I am. No.. I know that I am. I can do this. Here.. this place.. it’s home for me now,” I smile, “yeah, it may not be all that pretty, but it’s mine.” I stare into the void for a moment before saying, “I know to you it doesn’t look like much, hell, it isn’t much. But, where you see nothingness, I see everything. Possibility, you know?” I take a knee and put my hand on the ground, “it is here that I will build. It is here that I will grow. And then,” I stand up and turn back to the crevice, “when the time comes, I’ll start building another bridge with someone new.” I turn to the figure, “and while I know that won’t happen for some time, I’m okay with that. I’m okay.”
I felt a new vibe coming from the figure. Pride? It is a possibility. He looked at me with those eyes I couldn’t see and I could feel that he was happy, or at the very least content, with my answer and with the man I had become since he’d last seen me.
“You seem much more sure of yourself now,” he says.
“Do I?” I chuckle, “I suppose you’re right. I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? I’m not the same kid I was all those years ago.” I reflect on the person I was when he originally found me, how weak and hopeless I was; the me who was unable to let go; the me who clung to the idea of the fixing something I was never meant to fix; the me who allowed his obsession with that bridge to stifle his growth. How different that person was in comparison to the man I am now.
“I understand this world of mine a lot better now, and I can thank-you for that. But, even still..” I look down at the grey world beneath me, “I don’t understand it completely yet,” I look at the figure, “I would ask you, but I’m sure I already know your answer. Besides, when I really think about it, I don’t want to know. I’ll take it as it comes. Let it be a surprise, or whatever. Something to look forward to, I guess.”
He looks at me and, without speaking a word, his message comes across loud and clear.
“I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“You’ll be fine from here on out, then?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I wish you the best of luck.”
He dematerializes in front of me, his essence carried along by the wind. Where he is going, I cannot be sure. Perhaps into the sky, to become one with the stars.. perhaps, in fact, he is a star, watching over me in the dark night sky. However, where he is now is unimportant.
No.
What’s important is what remains here and now. I turn from where he once stood, back towards the emptiness and begin planning.
Yes.
This is a brand new beginning for me.
Now then..
Image from Fourthstream
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