Holden, Aris, and the Invisible World.

On a day where the sun ceased to break through the gray clouds, a man sat alone on the corner of a street. He had no name and to most people, he did not exist. Some walked right through him, others around him- but whoever crossed his path did not do so on purpose. No one could see him except himself. He was born that way, born into a world different then our own.

            In his hands he held a pile of books, which also, like himself, were unable to be seen by everyone else. Anything that he touched developed this quality.

            He was flipping quickly through the old pages, his fingers strong but cold as the snow began to fall, tiny white flurries that caught on his lashes.

            A picture of an old man caught his eye. He had thinned gray hair and deep gray eyes set back far in his head. He was staring past whoever had photographed him, obviously looking at something that was behind the photographer. He did not, however, look excited to see whatever it was. Something in his eyes showed deep pain or unforgettable regret.

            My name is Alden, and I can not be seen.

            “Did you know him?” A voice asked. I looked up from where I was siting and saw no one. Startled, I went back to my reading.

            “Did you know him?” The voice repeated, a little softer this time.

            “Are you talking to me?” I mumbled, my eyes narrowing on the picture of the old man sitting in front of me.

            “Yes, of course!” I looked up and now saw a small boy.

            “Can you see me?” I asked.

            “Yes.” He replied, but not looking me in the eyes. Like everyone else, he looked straight through me.

            “Look me in the eyes.” I said. His eyes wandered and I saw that he couldn’t. I got up and walked away.

            I didn’t know where I was going and so it didn’t matter which direction I went. I chose to wander down a path behind the city. In an old barn I saw the oranges and blues of a flickering fire flaming up through the broken roof and so I followed it’s reddish glare. As I neared the barn I heard the fire cracking and heard small voices. I stood in the doorway and saw that there were three teenagers huddled around the flames, and so I joined them. After all, they couldn’t see me anyways.

            I pulled out my book and continued to study it, reading everything about the man whose picture I had so closely examined. The teenagers were talking about unimportant things at first, but when one of the boys asked if anyone was or could be listening in, my gaze swept upward.

            “We only have three days before he’s dead.” One of the voices said. My heart beat quickened.

            “Well, then we need to figure out if he’s lying.” Another voice responded.

            One of the girls kept looking around and you could see the fear in her eyes as the fire blared up in front of her. She backed away and hugged the blanket she was holding. And though I was invisible, and somewhat invincible, I couldn’t keep the fear from crawling up my spine as well. It filled the room and grasped everyone in it with it’s slendor fingers, tracing any bone it could find.

            It started raining a few moments later- ironic, I thought as the first drip fell from the hole up above us. I watched the flames twinkling upward then slowly as they came to nothing. It was dark but I could still feel the presence of the three around me. They had fallen asleep, their shallow breaths filling the room.

            I couldn’t sleep, didn’t sleep, but sat awake studying my book. Being out of sight, as I was, I did not belong to the earth that everyone (even myself) knew, I belonged to my own world, a world that no one could see, sometimes not even those of us in it. I could, however, see things that those on earth couldn’t. One of these was light in the presence of darkness. I could sense and I could hear and I could smell danger. I was born a human, with super-human powers. And so I sat in utter darkness, still able to read my book. A piece of paper slipped out that had something scribbled on it in blue ink.

            “In the sea of ocean eyes

lies the form of you, hidden.

Try to read their precious cries

and save them from the smitten.

One step forward into the empty, desolate dark,

you’ll find the eyes I’m speaking of, and start to feel the spark.”

I looked around me and took in a breath. It seemed as if this was written for me, yet I had no idea what it meant. It was signed George Henry Holden. A name that I had recognized from the picture of the old man. I closed my eyes and held them tight, the fear grasping me tighter now, not letting me escape it.

            When I woke up, the sun was beaming through the holes in the roof. The three teenagers were still asleep. I sat upright and immediately remembered the note. I pulled it out of the front cover of the book and read over it again, whispering the words to myself. Try to read their precious cries and save them from the smitten. I looked up and saw that one of the girls, the one I noticed that had been unmistakably frightened from the night before, was sitting up and staring at me. We linked eyes but her glance quickly swept to the wall beside her. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and I noticed that her hands were shaking. Try to read their precious cries and save them from the smitten. I whispered it aloud to myself again and noticed that the girls glance returned back to me. She could hear me.

            “What is that?” She stuttered out, speaking to the empty room. Her two friends still soundly asleep across from her. Remembering the rest of the note, I thought that maybe this was the precious cry that I was looking for.

            “Are you in danger?” I asked, feeling like the super-humans in the comic books I had seen so many times- feeling like at any moment I could just sweep her up and fly away with her, killing anyone who caused her harm along the way. But it wasn’t that easy.

            “Where are you?” She was slowly scampering backwards until her back hit the wall and she jumped from fright.

            “You can’t see me.” I said. “But I am in this room with you, I’m in front of your very eyes, a whole world in front of your eyes that you can’t even see. But you need to tell me, are you in danger?”

            “M-my brother is… s-sir. He will die in three days.”

            “May I ask why?” The clarity of my voice shocked me.

            “Th-they think he’s crazy.” Her eyes were still traveling around the room, looking for me. “But maybe he’s not.”

            “Why do you say that?” I asked.

            “He can see people that no one else can see.” She replied. “But I can’t see you, and I am not crazy.” She stuttered.

            The thought of the little boy from the morning before entered my mind. “What is he like?” I asked.

            “He is young and small for his age, only eleven. He has blonde hair and blue eyes and he raises his voice a lot.”

            “Bring me to him.” My voice was even. She nodded and stood up slowly, her knees were shaking. “Don’t be afraid.” I reached out for her but she couldn’t see me, or feel my hand- and so I dropped it.

The two others were still sound asleep, though the boys arm stirred as we slipped out of the barn. The cold rain from the night before was turning into snow again, convenient for us as it covered the ground, another perfect wonder.

We continued down a path and I thought of the rest of the note. In the sea of ocean eyes lies the form of you, hidden. I mumbled under my breath again.

            “What is it that you’re saying?” The girl asked.

            “It’s a note that I found in a book. It seems like it was written for me.”

            “Let me see it.” She said, sticking her hand out.

            “I don’t know if you can.” I responded. “I think it belongs to my world.”

            “Your world?” She asked.

            “It’s not just me that you can’t see, there is a whole world of us.”

            “Can you see them, the others in the world?”

            “No. I responded. Atleast, I never have.” My eyes were forward when I saw someone running up the path. It was the boy from that morning.

            “Is that him? Is that your brother?” I asked, turning to face the girl.

            “Where?” She asked, her eyes still looking around, looking for the form from which my voice came.

            “Up there! Ahead!” I was running now to see him.

            “I don’t see anything.” The girl said, her hands beginning to shake again.

            “Ana! Ana!” The small voice yelled.

            “Ana?” I asked, turning to her.

            “That’s my name.” She fainted.

            When she woke up, the little boy and I were standing over her. His name was Aris, I had found out. Unlike that morning however, he could see me now- now, he looked me in the eyes when I spoke. She opened her eyes and looked around, but cleary could see no one.

            “Ana!” Her brother immediately shouted at her.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“Here!” He responded.

“You can’t see him, can you?” I asked. She immediately recognized my voice.

“No.” She responded. “Can you?”

“Yes.”

In the sea of ocean eyes lies the form of you, hidden. The words ran through my mind, yet again. It was all coming together now, the girl with the “precious cries” was the girl who needed to be saved. The form of myself was hidden in her, her brother, who was just like me.

            “I’m here to help you, to help you see.” I spoke aloud. To the girl or her brother, I wasn’t sure, but both turned their heads. “Why are you going to be killed?” I asked Aris.

            “They think I’m crazy.” He responded.

            “Crazy why?”

            “Because I can see a world that doesn’t exist.”

            “I can too.” I responded. He blinked a few times. We sat down next to Ana, who was still on the ground. The wet snow was seeping through my pants, but neither And or her brother stirred, and so I didn’t either. It was quiet and I started looking through the book. I hadn’t read through the whole thing yet.

            I stumbled across a list, this time it was written in block print with a black pen, but it was attached inside the binding of the book.

1.     Manhattan

2.     Blue Dog

“We’re going to Manhattan.” I suddenly announced. Ana had been looking around and Aris had been watching me.

            “What?” Ana kept staring forward and blinked a few times.

            “Do you want to save your brother?” I asked plainly.

            “Yes.” Ana responded. “But Manhattan? How? Why?”

            “This book, led me to you. And I think that whoever wrote it knew about this other world too. And he knew that one day someone who needed it would run across it. Maybe he was like your brother, maybe he saw that world- a glimpse of it atleast.” I said, thinking about how his eyes had been focused on something other then the photographer in that picture. I held the book up, forgetting that Ana couldn’t see it. Aris grabbed it and started flipping through it.

            “Why do you trust the book?” Ana asked.

            “I don’t know.” I said. “But I do. And I think we need to go. Where are your parents?”

            “We don’t have parents.” Aris responded.

            “Everyone has parents. Everyone is born, everyone has them.”

            “They left us.” His voice dropped.

            “It was only us and our father- our mother died before Aris was born. Once Aris started seeing whatever he has been seeing, my father bolted. We haven’t seen him since.” Ana responded.

            “Where do you live?” I asked.

            “Since my father didn’t die, no one found out that he left. So we’ve been living in his house. I’m eighteen so I took legal custody of Aris and we do the best we can. But I started bringing him to a psychologist to help him- I t-thought it would help him.” She looked down. Aris scooted closer to her and gave her a hug. She didn’t feel him.

            “W-what happened?” I asked, feeling the all to familiar fear again.

            “They think he has a disease and wont let him live. They think his brain has been taken over and don’t want him affecting other people. They say it’s uncurable.” Aris looked at her, hearing this obviously for the first time. He started to cry but tried to hide it by rubbing the backs of his wrists on his cheeks.

            “I’m not crazy.” He said, looking at me. Ana’s eyes tried to find us.

            “Lets go.” I said.

We went to the train station and Ana bought a ticket. Aris and I could go on without one, for obvious reasons. The train was desolate, we were the only three. The lights inside were dimmed and the seats were torn.

            “So, no one can see you anymore?” I asked Aris.

            “I guess not.” He said.

            “But people could, at one point?” I asked.

            “Yes. Just yesterday.”

            “Aris!” Ana suddenly yelled.

            “Ana?” Aris asked.

            “Aris!” She hugged him. “I can see you!”

            “Where did that man go?” Aris asked, looking around.

            “Alden.” I spoke. “My name is Alden.”

            “Oh goodness.” Ana spoke. “You cant see him anymore, can you?” Ana asked her brother.

            “No.” He responded.

            So he jumped from world to world, I thought. That was why he could see me that day on the street, then suddenly couldn’t. He was like me, but at the same time was not. We rode in silence to Manhattan where we got off and started searching for a blue dog.

            “Everyone knows that blue dogs don’t exist.” Ana spoke as we walked down the first street we came upon. She was holding onto Aris’ hand.

            I stopped suddenly and looked up. A sign, clear as day, wooden with the words Blue Dog Café, written across it with thick paint was hanging above me. We went inside.

            The sound of voices and laughter and the smell of smoke and grease filled our senses. We sat down in a corner.

            “I don’t understand.” I shook my head and looked at Ana and Aris sitting close to each other. They were trying to find me again with their eyes but couldn’t. I flipped open my book, yet again.

            Manhattan and Blue Dog were the only two things on the list. Was this the blue dog? Was the list even for me, or was I getting ahead of myself? A waiter came to our table, pulling out a pencil from behind her ear, her black bob bouncing as she did so.

            “What can I get for you?” She asked. I opened my mouth to answer, then shut it. She couldn’t see me.

            “Just a glass of water.” Ana responded.

            “Two.” Aris added, drawing circles on the table with his finger.

When the waitress left I spoke again.

            “Ana there has to be something here, something that’s supposed to save Aris.” I whispered.

            “I don’t know.” She shrugged.

            “I’m hungry.” Aris announced.

The waitress came back and Ana asked for a menu, handing it to Aris. He flipped it open and began flipping through it. I dropped my head in my hands, simultaneously raising it back up. In front of me was the face that had grown all too familiar to me- George Henry Holden. I coughed.

            When the waitress came back, Ana asked where the owner was, following what I had asked her to do.

            “Holden?” She asked.

            “If that’s what you call him, then yes.” Ana responded.

            “He’s around- he’s old now, doesn’t come in often.” She responded.

I heard the bells hanging on the door jingling and turned around. George Henry Holden was in the doorway. With his grey hair and his deep set eyes, I wouldn’t have mistaken him for anyone else. My mouth opened slightly. I tried to meet his eyes then noticed as he met mine back and nodded. I couldn’t help but smile atleast a little bit. He could see me. Ana and Aris continued looking through the menu- they had no idea who this man was.

            As I ran through all of the words in his book, trying to put them together in my mind, he walked over- as if he had been waiting for me. He sat down, startling Ana and Aris, but only for a minute, atleast until he spoke.

            “I can see your friend.” He said to them, turning to me. They stared.

            “I can too.” Aris said.

            “Aris… Aris?!” Ana brought her hands up to her face.

            “You can’t see him anymore, can you?” Holden asked. She shook her head. “Have you been reading my book, Mr. Adlen?” Holden continued.

            “Yes?” I said, unauthoritatively, of course. “How did you know?” I finished.

            “Adlen, I created the world that you live in, the world that Aris keeps slipping into, and the world that only a select few can see and only at select times.”

            “Destroy it.” I said.

            “What?” He asked, dumbstruck.

            “It’s ruining lives, taking lives.” I spat out. His eyes saddened and I felt a small pang of apathy for the man.

            “It’s just, this little boy, Aris, will be killed. The doctors think that he is crazy.” But Holden was gone. I dropped my head back to the table.

            “Alden!” Ana yelled. “I can see you! And Aris too!”

I smiled. I had done it.