TCOTNK Season 4.6
TCOTNK Season 4.6
As they settle in the studio Yeshe wonders why they have landed there. An answer is starting to form....
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back to chapter 4.5 (last weeks episode)
Chapter 8
Yeshe had known the book since she was seven. She had cherished it all these years but was genuinely surprised by what she had never seen before. And it seemed each of them saw a different story. It reminded her of those dress-up doll books where you could choose whose head, or what kind of footwear you paired with which body. Always a different result. And while those books had a limited palette of possibilities, The Castle was a long chain of complex choices. Many chains in fact. You could choose every detail yourself. It wasn’t about making the right choices. There was no first step. No last. No beginning, no obvious ending. All you got were beads. You supplied the thread. But the result of that interaction was certainly not random. What the book gave you were all the instruments of a great orchestra, arranged in sections, and mixed throughout, half-hidden scores, playing instructions, rooms full of skilled musicians, all within a magnificent building with evocative hallways, spaces, staircases, and behind each window a view of a deep landscape. All beautiful in themselves but in the hands of the right person, it could yield a visual symphony. Not just one, but repeatedly. A world of visions. A world of insights and atmospheres. Of metaspheres. All the means to navigate that place brought together in a picture book. A picture book for the bigger picture. For firing up imagination itself.
As the day progressed, it became quieter. Thalia was engrossed in reading Michael's diaries. Es was sorting pink cards and trying to pin them to the film poster size enlargements. The studio increasingly resembled the chaos of an artist's atelier. Jonnes had first worked through the pile of costumes, airing them on a length of pipe bridging two bookcases. He tried combining them into semi coherent outfits from the mount of loose items. And now he was outside, wearing a viking style helmet, busy adjusting the empty trailer. Turning the cover inside out to make the rental company’s lettering invisible.
Yeshe searched among the books. Deep into the dim lit book-canyon. Using her phone light to read the endless rows of titles. A wooden scaffolding on rubber wheels, three floors high, alowed her to reach the higher regions. On the uprights there were handles to easily pull her wandering tower between the gorge's lettered faces, without the need to climb back down. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but ambling among books helped her think. Unfortunately, the thinking ability did not increase with the number of books. She scanned aimlessly and let her train of thought run free. It was definitely a collection, not just acoustic material. Not only. And judging by the smell, the library also housed a whole collection of paper-eating organisms and functioned as an oversized moisture absorber. She let her small phone LED shine deep into the abyss. It was so much and the layout was not exactly linear. No sign of alphabetical, chronological, chromatical or geographical ordering. It looked suspiciously like randomness. There was a lot about music. Biographies of composers, treatises on jazz, photo books of bands, a whole section with program booklets of events. Operas, Glastonbury, Lowlands, Portland, and many more. A whole shelf of Beatles, pop-lyrics, guitar books, wandering deep into instrument making until it became anthropology, and that transitioned into a whole corner of crafts and material books. Woodworking, trees, sculpture, macramé, model flying, a shelf full of bowyers manuals, growing vegetables, self-sufficiency, wool. And only the carpenter books were spanning the entire world. Around the corner, the treasure morphed into a gully of visual arts. With growing excitement, she began to see the connecting element. Her guardian had not brought this strange little group here by chance.
The first shelf she had glanced at, had been poetry. Little bound gems. Of course, besides this being a random collection of some eclectic book lover with excursions into all possible subjects, this was also an ark. A time-capsule. And Jonnes had a key to this place. Had led them here. He had probably not been here for a long time. Or maybe never? And that meant they were not just staying here overnight. Was it through Sapi’s doing that they had ended up here? As a chance station on the way to? As an offering. The opening of yet another door? This studio hadn't been used for a long time but was still maintained in a way. No leakage. The exterior work was too good for years of vacancy and neglect. A place to make and keep records? But why not the music itself?
What was there to find? Among the tens of thousands of books she could get lost for years. It was a perfect hideout for quiet research. A hermit’s cave. Away from the world.
Her phone died. The shutdown melody left her in the dark. A flashlight on a mobile. It seemed like an innocent gadget. And yet it didn’t only serve the user. I cannot live, with or without you, it sang inside her. When would be the right moment to let go? Was that determinable? Or would it just happen? The digital shutdown. And then? What misery would descend? Would people apply what they’ve learned? Will we all be able to step through the gate or will too many be left behind? How many? Do we really have to start over? Or can we continue with gradual change? A slow but inevitable undressing. She stroked the row of children’s books next to her. Would all that be lost? Forgotten? She let her hands dance for a bit, to ground herself. To land back in her body. The platform creaked as she pulled it out from between the rows, towards the open space. Towards the light of day. What somber thoughts. Where did they suddenly come from? Yeshe looked from her dark high position at Thalia, who had curled up on the circular sofa and built herself in with twenty bulging journals. She was frantically reading and flipping pages. Going back and forth between the volumes. Jonnes 'the truck driver' had begun tuning the piano. Comfortably monotonous. Behind the high windows, the sun shone, and Es was leaning with her butt against Daardaar’s nose, blowing the steam from her bowl. Yeshe took a mental picture of the memorable scene. Peace in paradise.
But not really.
She climbed down. What was wise? Move on? To the Orph thing? Split up? Stay put until something came to light? Travel as a group? Go on tour, as Jonnes would put it?
She walked outside. Leaned against the grill next to Es. It was already hot again.
“I have to stay close by for when Kay wakes up.”
“I understand. That’s fine. Do we have lunch for the three of us plus a terrorist and a truck driver?”
“Yep, the oatmeal is on. There are blackberries over there. I actually wanted to go picking,”
She pointed to a bush on the other side of a large field.
“but I can’t go there without the baby monitor.”
“What do you mean?”
“The hat. I used it as a camera. Also when I had to work. It hung above Kay’s bed. I think we’ve left it on the scooter when we took off from the parking lot. Shall I make you a cup of tea?”
Es walked away.
Yeshe thought of picking blackberries and yawned. First a nap? She really needed to sleep. And this month's shower.
Es came back. Without tea.
“Where’s the tablet? Is it still in the nest?”
She was already walking there. Yeshe followed her.
“Yeah, why?”
“There’s tracking on it. I could always see on a map where Kay was sleeping.”
“Wow, you mean we can track the hat that way?”
“Yes, and whoever is wearing it.”
They climbed up. The battery was almost dead but the app still worked. It didn't find anything. No mention on the map. Es put the screen down.
“It was a really good plan. It would have worked if it worked.”
Yeshe smiled.
“I think I’ll convert your temporary contract to permanent.”
“I wouldn’t do that, you only know half of me.”
“Fortunately. So there’s still more to come?”
Es looked uncomfortable.
“Yes, a truckload of trouble. And you still don’t have your tea.”
Kay stirred and called out from the other side of the partition.
Yeshe picked up the tablet and dived into the menu. Essentially, the baby-monitor-hat-thing was just a hefty mobile. Video calling via satellite. Now she saw the internet was down. No signal. Maybe they were too far from civilization or the satellite was doing errands.
She stepped inside Daardaar and was ambushed by Kay in cat pyjamas, the boy hugged her leg as if she had been to the North Pole. For a decade.
“Hey Es, can I charge my phone and this here at the same time?”
Es checked the meter.
“Yes, should be fine by now. The panels are working again. I’ll turn off the lights in the studio.”
Es disappeared with Kay.
Yeshe created a hotspot from her phone to get the baby monitor online and waited to see if it would work. The kettle whistled. In the background she heard the piano playing a melody as the glass door opened and the tablet pinged. A two second fragment until the soundproof door closed.
Now she went back to ‘Follow your baby’. Setting the timeframe for a report to; last twenty-four hours. The timelapse started. First nothing. Which was of course right. Eleven, twelve, one o’clock. She waited. Two, three and then poof. The screen zoomed in on the harbour. Showing the movements and switching to a slower pace. Yeshe’s heart started beating faster. This would be amazing. She saw Es walking across the terminal. Half past four. Then she moved to the footbridge. To the bike racks and there the pacifier icon suddenly disappeared. The moment the connection was lost. Or when the plug had come out. Or the battery went flat. Shame.
She poured hot water into a mug and used Es’s tea bag.
The time ran on to midday. That was that then. Es came back in.
“Kay is getting a piano lesson. Hey, what are you doing? Oh, that’s smart. Daardaar’s wifi is off, I forgot, we’ve consumed our monthly ration. Did you do find your device? Follow your baby only works if the hat is switched on.”
Es took over and Yeshe looked along over her shoulder. Different map. Different icon. A small radio with the time-stamp next to it multiplied into a thick cluster covering the city-map. She zoomed in. Again a list of locations with ten minutes intervals but now showing the full twenty-four hour movements.
“Yes! See that? At nine someone took off with the hat and it doesn't looks like it was the wind.”
“Could that be Michael?”
The erratic trail of radios ran through the city's streets and then out.
“Look! He passed very close to here. This is where we are.”
Less than two hours ago, the track missed their location by a few kilometers. Yeshe was puzzled. They were south of the city. Michael's trail, if it was him, didn't add up. He also drove south. Not to the northeast where the festival was. The map moved. A new radio was added. He was still on the go, following the coast, away from Orph. Yeshe didn't understand.
Maybe he had put his hat on the bus and happily drove in the other direction. Or some random scooter thief was whistling their way to the sun wearing their supplemental trophee. Or dear Michelangelo had a different plan than expected and was driving full speed down the winding tourist road, along the rocky coast, in his girly dress and cowboy hat, loudly singing take me home, to the place, I belong. Or whatever. Yeshe sighed. They had no real clue about his whereabouts or headings.
Yeshe walked to the studio sipping her mug.
Thalia was asleep. Mouth open, head back on the armrest. Kay lay on top of the grand piano. One ear against the lid. Jonnes played very soft repetitive rhythms on a few good keys. He smiled crookedly at her as she approached.
She sat down on the bench next to him with a big sigh.
“I don't know what to do."
He kept on playing as he crooned melodically as a midnight poet.
“Decisions take themselves. Just get out of the way. Lunch is too often affected negatively by deciding prematurely. Would be a shame.”
He pointed to a key.
Yeshe played it, in the gap he left open.
“A bit late, here comes another chance, play it twice now, at pace.”
That was better. Now she heard the connection with his melody.
He pointed to a black key. On the other side of his hands.
“Pay attention. Do you feel it coming? Leave it to ring. Yep, that's how it should be done. We go lower, that lowest black one, a long note, but at the same slot as the first.”
Shit, she felt it approaching but couldn't reach it easily. Not without sticking her head under his armpit and stretching her arm. It growled as she hit it just in time.
Jonnes got up from the stool to sit back down to the right of her. Giving her a bump to move up and continued playing while laughing. Yeshe started to get the pattern and imitated his notes. Some had not yet been fully tuned and the weird cringe they caused was like tickling. Slightly painful and good at the same time. Making her laugh. Kay leaned over the edge. Jonnes made some space between them and deliberately started throwing in wrong notes now and then. Kay could do that too. His tiny finger filled each of the gaps Jonnes left open with a highly concentrated choice of key.
It ended in a colourful mess of taking turns and all at once.
Thalia slept right through it.
Jonnes closed the lid.
“And that's how it should be done. Can I play the piano or what?”
Kay nodded vigorously yes.
“Can Yeshe play the piano?”
A brief moment of doubt, but the verdict was positive.
“Can Kay play the piano?"
His head went to one side. Jonnes imitated him. Kay pursed his lips. The large mirror man did the same. Then the boy started nodding with conviction.
“Good, from now on you'll put that on your list. Play the piano? Check! That's how it actually works, first you can do it, and then you start doing it often because you like it and then it grows naturally, exponentially, infinitessalonikiki….”
Jonnes wanted to walk away, but Kay pulled him back by his shirt.
“I - can - speak.”
It sounded very clear and confident.
Jonnes tilted his head again and pursed his lips. Kay understood the routine. And now they made a few more faces until Jonnes lifted a leg for a final fart.
The boy fell over laughing.
Thalia sat there looking at them blankly. Still completely out of this world. She rubbed her neck. Her short hair was charmingly poky and crooked. Yeshe immediately saw that something was wrong and walked towards her. At first they didn't say anything. Only the chatter of the two boys, now outside, reached them dully. Thalia was almost talking to herself.
“He's didn't go to the Viking thing. We were already there and wearing his costumes. It was great and everyone was nice and wanted to keep us there and it was a party with everything you expect from a party. I was like a princess with….”
She looked down at her arms and stroked her bare legs as if she could still feel the fabric of her clothes.
“But Michael wasn't there. Nobody minded. Nobody missed him. And I almost gave in. I had to leave, to not forget him. I had to go look for him. But outside the gate the world was so terrible. So horrible. Everything was motionless. I walked through that place of stationary things. They did move, but so incredibly slowly that I could easily pass cars on the highway. But everything happened with so much force because of that. Every move seemed predetermined, inevitable, and had to be completed as initiated. A falling leaf became a rock-hard object that could not deviate from its path. I was unable to change or move anything. Everything moved. I moved between it all. But no interaction was possible. A door that was closed stayed closed until someone else opened it, which took minutes. I could no longer walk through the grass. Only on top of the razor-sharp, hard blades. And I didn't understand. Had I become that much faster? Had the world slowed down? I looked at people. Their inevitability was so terrible. Every emotion stretched to its limits. Everything had to be done so compulsively that it became hell. A smile became a mask in which every trace of insincerity was magnified. Then an accident was about to happen, at some busy intersection. I saw it coming. Saw how and where things went wrong. Saw the kids in the backseat. Saw the smoke curling from under the braking tires, both vehicles inevitably heading towards each other's space, I ran between them, stood in front of them, I shouted, I warned, I held the family car back with all my might, I pulled the steering wheel through the open window of the drunk driver. I didn't want to see what I knew was about to happen. I saw every detail. Every hair. I bumped into flying pebbles. Saw the first shock on the mother's face. I wanted to not see but couldn't leave it behind. And then came the crash. Four cars were involved. And the sounds. Have I told you what the sounds of that world were like?”
Thalia looked at Yeshe. Grabbing her arm. It seemed like she was still in that dream. Yeshe shook her head.
“It was the constant roar of a tape recorder at the very slowest tempo, nothing was recognisable anymore. Many sounds were sickeningly low. Pushing my eardrums and massaging my skin with rough hands. The sound wave from the impact hit me like a punch in the ear, vicious and biting, seeming to bend the bones of my skull. Things happened relatively quickly now. Because they drove into each other at high speed. And the images afterwards were so...”
Thalia's face tore open. A grimace with real pain.
"That young girl hit her face on the side window and it was shattered so slowly, it was completely dented and squeezed out like... and her eye..."
She just shook her head no, repeatedly, and whined.
Yeshe held Thalia’s shoulders and let her quiet down for a moment before she started talking.
“You're there for a reason. Go back there. Leave the misfortune for what it is. You are not responsible for that. There's nothing you can do about that. Go to where you were before and look around. Feel where you can go, feel where you are needed, feel...”
Thalia’s breathing became calmer. Jonnes came in, but he immediately saw that something was going on, withdrew and closed the outside door. Silence descended. Yeshe felt strong. Was impressed by the power of the dream but also knew that something very important was about to happen. For Thalia, and for everyone else. For what they stood for together. For what was currently unfolding. The young woman’s voice was in a calmer register now. Her eyes were closed.
“….It's as if the difference is getting bigger. I'm going faster and faster and everything is lagging behind more and more. But that's outside. In reality it is the other way around. The two are stuck together. I am forced to that speed. I want out.”
Yeshe waited a moment. Then spoke softly and deliberately.
"This, is, your, world."
She said it with all the strength she had. Every fiber of her was convinced. The statement was true to the depths of her own existence and she shared it with Thalia. Gave it as a gift.
“This world is yours, you make it, make it so that you can move on. That it gives you what you need. Let it be given to you. Be receptive to what it wants to give you.”
Thalia breathed shallowly through her nose. Fear.
“Do not be afraid. This is you yourself. Don't be afraid of yourself.”
Now she seemed to collapse with her breath. Becoming small.
“You think you can't do it? That you don't know how, or in what way?”
Thalia sobbed like a little child. Sniffled with her chin on her chest.
“Imagine that you can use everything that is available in the world. You can choose anything. Every skill, every object, every tool, entire armies, you can consult experts, delegate, command the water in the clouds, make flowers bloom or wither, fly, dig, die or rise. It is your world. What are you going to do?'
Now a smile came through. A tiny mischievous grin.
“Michael?”
Her calling voice was thin and childish.
"I'm calling him so he comes."
She was quiet for a moment and listened. Her face calm. Eyes closed. Cheeks wet.
"He doesn't want to be found."
Her normal voice was back. More confident now.
“How do you know that?”
She smiled widely, still in the dream.
"I listen to his thoughts."
She looked very satisfied.
Yeshe let her have her way. Gave her time to let the bad dream come to fruition. She herself was very uncomfortable. Her leg was asleep. Her arm almost fell off supporting the fragile woman in front of her, but it felt like an amazing moment to be part of.
Thalia opened her mouth. Yeshe was seized by the power of the moment and felt carried away. The movements of the face opposite her was an opening in time. It happened so slowly that the muscles in her neck and arms became hard. She was literally petrified by the difference in speed. Thalia's eyes opened like the sun rising. Slow and irrevocable. The sight was almost painful. Thalia's hands came up to Yeshe's face. Landing in a soft caress. And then they were back on the same track. Still slow but equal.
Thalia's voice was thick and syrupy. But sweet and warm.
"I can go slow too."
She said it with such intense satisfaction. Her voice low and deep and wide. Stretched into the corners of the large dusty room.
Then everything was normal again and they were laughing at each other like sparrows in love. They giggled, crying from shared intimacy.
Es stood there looking at them. They hadn't heard her come in. Two steaming bowls at the ready. Her eyes moved from one to the other.
“My oh my, can I join you guys next time? That looked like you just melted into one squishy ball. Phew. I think that’s how babies are made. Or entire continents. Bowl of blackberried porridge, anyone?”