The Girl Who Chases the Wind

Chapter 10: Images

Dr. Feldon made a few calls and commented that his “worrier” would be available next before lunch. But, he amended, “Edgar is on the way. Would you like to stop by?”

Whether Feldon noted my wonder from yesterday or he really was on the way, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.

Edgar was just finishing up a sponge bath. His screen was showing plenty of blur-worthy details from his imagination. I was surprised the nurse didn’t blush.

On the wall, Edgar and Ada appeared on the shore of a jungle lagoon with the alabaster seashells of advanced buildings all along the far, mottled-green cliffside. Long waves crashed against the shore and curled against their feet. Edgar plopped down on the sand and asked, “Is that lady from yesterday with you, Dr. Feldon?”

I resisted the urge to blanch. It was entirely possible that Dr. Feldon visited more than once yesterday, with someone else. I raised what I hoped was a confident eyebrow as I folded my arms.

Dr. Feldon gave a heartier chuckle than I expected, as he explained, “It’s Mr. Harper from yesterday.” A blank gray silhouette materialized on the projection and Edgar inspected it as Ada gave him a skeptical look.

On the other side of the image, a rendition of what I assumed was Dr. Feldon swiftly appeared. The details were precise but still rather idealized. The tone of his hair was a little darker than reality and its texture a little thicker. He was also clearly taller and dressed in a fancier lab coat. Not bad though.

My image softened, getting shorter and smaller. I had to frown and clear my throat. Dr. Feldon gave a faint chuckle and told me, “Eventually, we will find a way to scan people and things so Edgar’s imagination doesn’t have to do all the work.”

Edgar scowled on the screen as he relayed, “A lot less fun than guessing…” His guesses had me closer in size to Ada. I had to chime in about my actual height (which I was very much proud of). Slowly, he made my gray form taller again.

With a sigh, Dr. Feldon clasped his hands and announced, “There’s something I need to take care of. Will be just a moment.” Feldon’s on-screen avatar blinked away and mine remained nearby. I pulled up a chair with a scuffing squeak that rattled the sand like a tremor. I offered a quick apology and scooted up to look into Edgar’s tightly-squinting eyes.

I knew from yesterday that he couldn’t really see me but as a shift of light and shadow. I turned to the screen to see Ada and Edgar were watching expectantly. I cleared my throat and inspected my avatar. I rubbed my cheek and offered input on how to improve it.

Ada chirped in, “I apologize for Edgar calling you a lady. He often has women on the brain.” I answered only, “It’s alright. I’m not that masculine…”

My avatar shrunk a little more. I amended, “Although you can…you know…flatter me a little.” It stopped shrinking but didn’t get any bigger.

I addressed Ada for the details. I mentioned the form of my suit. It would’ve helped if I had some sort of photo on any of my host sites. The best I could offer was a stylized drawing of a classic gumshoe which would’ve just looked silly on a realistic face.

Eventually, we arrived at something I couldn’t complain about, even though it tilted more towards boyish than manly. My avatar plopped down on the sand and crossed its legs in a way which mimicked Ada more than Edgar.

The setting shifted, losing the high-tech facility in the background. The lagoon deepened but sprouted more rocks. Blue overwhelmed the green, like a frozen time past dusk but before evening. Clouds, like silvery puffs of cotton stretched thin, sprawled across the sky.

I had to reiterate what I’d felt yesterday, “Edgar, I wouldn’t mind living in one of your dreams.”

Edgar’s avatar cracked a cheeky smile and asked mine, which sat there like a game character without a player, “How do you know you’re not in a dream right now?”

I leaned back in the chair but found the wood was more delicate than I thought. Straightening, I told him, “Because I wake up.”

Ada urged me, “Don’t indulge him. He likes to mess around.”

Edgar continued, kicking back as stars appeared despite the still blue of the sky, “I’m always waking up. Always finding myself somewhere with a sense of relief like ‘holy crap…whew, I’m not trapped in a bed about to shit myself again’. Of course then, maybe the dream is the bed and reality is an infinity of wishes that always come true. I have no idea if you or Dr. Feldon aren’t just concerns which plague my subconscious. Not to say you aren’t nice little imaginings.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that. I squeezed my hands, feeling the warm (slightly sweaty) flesh. I pinched them a few times and looked back to the screen to ask, “Do you really think that’s possible?”

Ada gave me a sympathetic look and remarked, “Indulging…”

Edgar ran his hands through the coarse sand around him. His maroon suit became more of a teal. “All I can do is think. You all on the ‘outside’ don’t bend to my thoughts but then not all of my thoughts do. They flow and fight and dig and soar…”

An entire galaxy revealed itself in the dim blue of the sky, brighter than the Milky Way appeared on even the clearest night far from the sprawl and looming closer than seemed safe.

I stretched a little and asked, “What do you think of Dr. Feldon?”

A new sun swelled on the horizon barely brighter than the moon. The galaxy above swirled as though time was accelerating while the little sun hung motionless. At the edge of the projection, a beach-front home started to assemble itself.

Edgar chuckled as shimmering fish blasted through the water with twinkling lights upon their bellies. “I could ask the same of you and your first impressions. You always give nice first impressions in your articles.”

Not something I would really cite, but I felt a rush of pride. My first impression of Edgar would be a man locked in one place but always swimming through the possibilities of humanity. For Feldon…

“I’m still working on that. I get the sense he wants to save the world. He’s ambitious. He takes every life here with the utmost seriousness. He often laments he can’t do more. He’s private and careful. I can respect that. But he has a great many secrets. I can tell that already. I just can’t tell if they’re important secrets or pains he’s buried from his past.”

Ada answered this time, saying, “Not bad. But every secret is important. No matter if the one who might seek them out considers them important or not. The reason why they’re kept reveals something about the keeper. Just like your secrets, Mr. Harper.”

I clutched the back of the chair to keep it from wiggling. There was no mistaking her implication as a massive female symbol dropped out of the sky next to my avatar like the most polite meteorite strike ever seen.

Really, I didn’t have to acknowledge it. If it had been Edgar then I would’ve deferred to Ada’s indulgence caution. But it was Ada, who I assumed was Edgar’s more rational and level-headed side (at least so far as I could make sense of the avatars).

“You’re right, I have secrets. But I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Ada gave a mysterious smirk before making a note on a pad which I wasn’t sure was there before. Edgar tossed a fistful of sand into the sky. Instead of falling, it changed into brown thrushes which splintered off until the entire shoreline was decorated by an undulating ring of birds rising and falling.

Edgar said only, “I’m not one to tattle, just one to tease. But I won’t press. Any requests for settings? Maybe a place you’ve written about?” He gestured to the beautiful twilight of the fantasy world around him.

A poker face didn’t seem to have an effect on Edgar, so I wondered if voice stress was giving me away. I didn’t feel like I was speaking any differently than normal but when all a man has of the outside world is a particular, vivid sense, like a dog’s nose taken to the limit, then who knew what he might be able to detect.

I’d been lucky at times, careful in others, and I had ways to keep my secret in case the usual methods failed. But I let it go on the hope that he was telling the truth, and thought about the background.

I loved the one he’d chosen and the way he’d added details like little crabs scurrying along. The beach house had been long since finished with only a single light beaming through the bay windows. Fireflies that cycled through colors of the rainbow lingered on the shoals. Far off, an animal gave a deep, throaty lament.  

I could see how Edgar’s dreams might feel more real than a voice from a boring hospital room.

While considering his offer, I noticed he discretely dropped off not only a male symbol but some other symbols relating to gender as well, even some I’d never seen before. I appreciated the gesture but none of them appealed to me. I stretched a bit and teased my chin with the question.

I could come up with plenty of possibilities. I’ve been to places more comforting and more desolate. I’ve enjoyed a cool day in a small town with a deeply-colored tree line surrounding everything like a jade bowl. I’ve enjoyed glimpses of the deepest part of the sprawl, where most people walk as the streets swarm with automatic traffic. I’ve marveled at how organic it feels. I’ve reconstructed shorelines, towns, cities, and lives melted away with the inexorable, rising tide. I swam through the skeletal remains of the greatest of all reefs. I’ve listened to cries of lost men and women. I’ve seen a lot, even at my age. I’ve written about most of it but put my pen down as well. Some things permit no words.

I cleared my throat. No little reaction from Ada or Edgar this time. I told them, “Just show me something pleasant…”

It didn’t take them long. A different shoreline, a temporary one like after a rainstorm. Accenting reeds clung to the sandy edges. Old-growth, stoic trees rose with crafted swoops and swirls, crowned with green thunderheads to touch the sky. Mossy rocks sat together in neat piles. Through mists, even larger trees loomed, like shadows or specters floating through the swallowed sky.

Ada and Edgar settled down before one of the nearer pools. My avatar, still looking a bit smooth and small, glanced around a few times. Then, she showed up.

Out of the left edge of the frame appeared Mari. She scampered over some weeds, not sprinting all-out but still rushing along. Hugging a nearby pool, she panted, out of breath, and looked over to my avatar. My avatar looked back.

She was dressed in a gown with the faintest suggestion of lime. A sudden breeze caught it and it bunched up against her thighs. She giggled without sound and stretched her arms behind her. Her hair was the same brilliant green as in person, barely muted by the overcast sky. She seemed so carefree.

I scooted up in the chair so much I worried it might tip over as I asked Edgar, “Who is that in the back with the green hair?”

On screen, Edgar pointed to her and she in turn pointed to herself. He told me, “Someone shared.”

Apparently everyone was gifted in being chronically vague about her. I puffed and asked, “Is her name Mari?”

Neither Ada nor Edgar betrayed subconscious surprise. Edgar simply chuckled as Ada explained, “We know Mari. She’s this…”