“And so, the cub finally awakes from hibernation,” Mom’s voice chirped. “And my, oh my, what a mess he has left for his mother bear to clean up.”
Link opened his eyes to find Mom darting around his bedroom, picking up all his dirty dishes in a frenzy. She was in her work uniform: a high-waisted skirt and an aqua buttoned-up shirt with the logo of the graphic design company she worked for, Pine’s Designs.
Like always, Link’s mind took a few minutes to process what was happening. Five seconds ago, he was in Nocera trading stories with a giant as they sat by a bonfire, and now he was in the comfort of his own home. A week ago if this happened he would’ve panicked, been in hot sweats, feeling his body for any injuries he might have picked up. But this had become the norm for him.
Ever since the car crash, every time Link shut his eyes at night he was thrown into the book, and the same things that happened when he stumbled down the mountain repeated. Time would stand still, memories that weren’t his would become his, followed by the excruciating burning sensation like someone had just poured hot lava over his head. It was as if he was living two different lives at once: One in reality, and one in Nocera. And he still had no idea what was causing it.
Link pulled the bed covers over his head to deflect the sunlight filtering in. “I told you not to wake me.”
“I know, I heard you,” Mom said, as she scooped up an empty coffee cup from his bedside table. “Kenji’s here.”
Link pulled the sheets off his head and craned his neck up. His best friend Kenji Nakamura was standing in the doorway, wearing an Oklahoma City basketball jersey he never ever washed. He gave Link a polite wave.
“Morning, Kenji,” Link said.
“Morning, Lincoln,” he answered, mimicking Link’s tired voice.
“Kenji’s parents let him have the day off school as well,” Mom explained. “So, perhaps you could both do something productive? Get out of the house maybe?” She shrugged. “Just spit-balling.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Peterson,” Kenji said over-enthusiastically.
Mom looked at her son impatiently, waiting for an answer. “That was directed at you, hermit.”
“OK, yes, I got it,” Link answered, trying to scratch an itch inside of his cast but failing miserably.
Mom exhaled forcefully, blowing a lock of hair away from her forehead. “All right, well, I’m off to work. See you when I get home. Remember: Do something productive.”
Just as she was about to head out of the room, she wheeled around and grabbed another dirty plate, adding it to her stack. “You’re a pig; you know that?”
“Love you too, Mom,” Link said, blowing her a kiss.
“Yeah, you better,” she said under her breath as she left.
“You look absolutely gorgeous this morning, Mrs. Peterson,” Kenji called out before he shut the door gently.
There was an awkward silence in the room as Mom closed the front door and her SUV roared to life outside.
“Soooo . . . How have you been?” Link asked, attempting to break the ice.
“How have I been?” Kenji repeated, stepping towards Link’s bed vindictively. “How have I been?”
In a flash, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and smothered Link’s face with it. “I’ll tell you how I’ve been, you miserable sack of shit. Fourteen years! Fourteen years of friendship and you ditch me for Nadine. Couldn’t even see me in the hospital. Didn’t even tell me you had been released. I’ve been worried sick; that’s how I’ve been.”
“OK, OK,” Link shouted in between laughs. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t hear you, buddy, speak up,” Kenji replied, pushing down the pillow with more force.
Link couldn’t just suffocate without putting up a fight. With his good hand, he flicked his best friend in the family jewels. Kenji quickly backed up, his face contorted in pain.
“Uncool, uncool,” he whispered.
Link waited until he finished whimpering before he spoke. “Look, I know I’ve been a crappy friend, and you have every right to be mad at me. But I just needed my own space.”
Kenji stood up slowly, his hands still cradling his nether regions. “Then why have you been seeing Nadine? I’ve known you longer than her.”
“I’ve seen her twice; that’s it.”
That was the truth. Not only had Link been the world's worst best friend, but he had also been the world's worst boyfriend. Ever since he was discharged from hospital, he had been keeping to himself, racking his brain, trying to figure the whole Nocera mess out.
“Have you been replying to her texts?” Kenji asked, still in obvious pain.
“No, not really.”
“Good. At least I’m not the only one you’ve been neglecting.” Kenji put his hands on his knees and bent over, sucking in a deep breath. “Oh God, I feel sick.”
“Need ice?”
Kenji straightened up. “No time for ice. Do you not understand the rarity of this occasion? We have a day off. A free pass, my friend. And, luckily for you, I have the whole day planned. Carpem dio.”
“Carpe diem,” Link corrected. “And I, uh . . . I kind of already have plans for today.”
“OK, lay them on me,” Kenji said as he flicked his hair out of his eyes. Kenji was the point guard for Link’s high school basketball team, the Aztecs. Without his brain on the court, they wouldn’t have won the playoffs last year. Coach always joked that Kenji would be twice the player he was if he’d cut his hair. That maybe he would be able to see the players he was passing to. But for Link, picturing Kenji without his mop-head hair was just weird.
Link got out of bed and walked to the cupboard, pulling out a plain black tee and whacking it on. “I was going to check out this pawn shop fir—”
“Nice,” Kenji said, smiling devilishly. “I like the way you’re thinking. Do you really think my fake ID will work, though?”
“No, a P-A-W-N shop, Kenji,” Link said, spelling it out for him. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“You’re joking, right?” he snapped. “You’ve got to be joking. A pawn shop? You do realize I never get days off school, right? I had tonsillitis once, and Mom still made me go. I had an oral presentation that day, Link. Let that imagery sink in.”
“I’m trying to. But I can’t imagine you not being able to talk.” Link slid into some denim pants and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Kenji shadowed him the whole way.
“You're being incredibly selfish right now,” Kenji said as he perched himself on the edge of the freestanding bathtub. “You’re not the only one with the day off, you know?”
Link didn’t answer him.
Kenji threw his hands up. “Oh, so now you’re trying to guilt trip me by giving me the cold shoulder?”
“Just do whatever you think is best,” Link said, dabbing his mouth with a hand towel.
“Don’t get short with me,” Kenji said.
“Kind of hard when your head barely comes up to my nipples.”
“Hah, good one,” Kenji said, springing to his feet. “But believe it or not, I’m actually only two inches shorter than the average adult male. And seeing as I didn’t hit puberty until I was fifteen, chances are I still have a few more growth spurts to go until I’m fully developed. So, when you think about it, the joke’s really on you, Link.”
“I’m sorry; did you say something?” Link said, brushing his hair with his fingertips as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t speak Oompa Loompa.”
Almost forgetting, Link walked back into his room and grabbed the book, Nocera, smiling wryly to himself at his witty comeback.
Although his Dad was a mechanic, Link had never really been into cars. Well, obviously he had been “into” cars in the general sense, but not infatuated with them like his Dad and Kenji were. They could talk for hours on end about car parts Link couldn’t even begin to pronounce. And sometimes, when Kenji was over, he spent more time in Dad’s garage than playing video games with Link.
He was just thankful Kenji had taken the day off school as well. Public transport was a pet hate of Link’s. But ever since his car had been written off, trains and buses had been his only mode of transport. Not that he’d gone out often, anyway. The only place he’d been visiting was the hospital.
“Just gave her a wax,” Kenji said as they approached his pride and joy: A silver and blue Nissan Skyline GT-R with a custom body kit. “Sexy, huh?”
“You ask me every time I approach your car.”
“And you never answer me.”
“Then stop asking me.”
Sliding into the passenger's seat, Link put his feet on the dashboard. Kenji quickly slapped them off and dusted off the spot where his shoes had been. “Neanderthal. Do I need to repeat the car rules to you again?”
“Noooo!” Link moaned. “Just start the damn car.”
Just as Kenji was about to turn the key in the ignition, he paused. “Uh, are you sure you’re all right with this?”
“With what?”
“You know, with the ‘me driving’ thing?” he continued hesitantly. “Especially after the . . . .”
“Crash?” Link finished for him.
“Yeah that,” Kenji said, looking down at the steering wheel.
“Just start the car,” he said, smiling with the corner of his mouth. “I’m perfectly fine.”
And Link was . . . just as long as he wasn’t the one driving.
****
Link and Kenji weaved through the traffic in the Skyline, listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the air conditioning on full blast. On the outskirts of the city, Phoenix’s red mountain ranges stretched out for miles and miles. Far different to the tall, snow-capped ones he, Alex and Foragoon had been traversing through in his sleep.
“So, how’s the little terror?” Kenji asked, using the reflection of the review mirror to style his shaggy hair.
“Alex?” Link asked. “Her results came back. Brain’s functioning normally. Hasn’t suffered any trauma. So, good, I guess.”
“You don’t sound too happy,” Kenji noted.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled, staring out the passenger side window. “It’s just . . . if her results are so good, why hasn’t she woken up yet? I read online the longer the patient stays in a comatose state, the less likely the chances of reversibility will be.”
Kenji shook his head, eyes fixed on the slow-moving Prius that was blocking them ahead. “Don’t buy into that crap, man. You can’t trust what you read online. She’ll be fine. She’s a fighter.”
But, of course, Kenji didn’t know the full story. That even though Alex was in a stable condition in the real world, she was still in insurmountable danger in Nocera. One day, Link was typing on his laptop, trying to catch up on his schoolwork when it happened. A tiny scratch suddenly appeared on his right cheek. It wasn’t painful, more of a shock really, enough to get his attention.
Later that night, when Link had entered Nocera and the memories sizzled into his brain, he learned he had scratched his cheek walking through a thicket. Ever since that day, the hospital had become his second home. Because he knew if the nurses were to find an injury on Alex, Dad and Mom would probably start WWIII.
Link figured if he were always by Alex’s side in the hospital, then he could be on standby to clean up a new wound, or if the injury was bad enough, quickly change her gown. Then, when he entered Nocera that night, he could apply the Herbs of Namayka to accelerate her healing and hide the evidence in the real world. So far, his plan had been working, but for how long would it last? They were in Nocera after all. As much as Link wanted to go back and rewrite the story, it wasn’t a land full of fluffy clouds and unicorns.
To make matters worse, Alex wasn’t the only one in danger. The very moment Link woke up and went about his daily schedule in the real world, someone else would be controlling his body in Nocera. Functioning like the autopilot feature of an aircraft does. That someone would mimic Link’s behavioural patterns: walk like him, talk like him, and apparently in Alex’s eyes, they were him.
Link got eight hours’ worth of sleep on an average night, which equated to eight hours’ worth of time in Nocera. So, for those other sixteen hours, his autopilot was in complete control: making important decisions, carrying conversations with Alex, risking his life, and basically doing whatever the hell he pleased.
****
“It’s too beautiful to be eaten,” Kenji said, taking pictures of his giant stack of pancakes from various angles. “It’s a work of art.”
“Well, if it’s still there by the time I finish my eggs Benedict I’m chowing that down as well,” Link said.
“You wish, fat boy.” Kenji opened a packet of maple syrup with his teeth and drizzled it over his pancakes. When he was done, he scrunched up the empty packet and threw it across the quiet cafe and into the bin. “Nothing but net.”
A man with long ear hairs shook his head in disapproval before continuing to go about his crossword.
“Tough crowd,” Link said, taking a long sip of his orange juice.
“When are you going to come back to practice, man?” Kenji asked. “The boys miss you.”
Link wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then glanced down at his cast, raising his eyebrows. Kenji followed his gaze.
“Once that’s off, obviously,” he added hastily.
“I don’t know—I just . . . .” Link trailed off. Kenji pounced on the opportunity.
“It could help you get your mind off things,” he said, finally slicing into his food. “And I’m sure as heck it would make your Mom happy.”
Link let out a chuckle. “Very discreet. She asked you to hang out with me today, didn’t she?”
Kenji fought back a smile, his mouth full of pancakes. “What? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He swallowed forcefully. “Anyways, the Aztecs need their star shooting guard back. So swing us a text when old righty is back in action.”
“I’ll think about it,” Link said. But by then he had already made his decision. Basketball was the farthest thing from his mind.
Something caught Link’s attention outside of the café window. A man was standing directly in the middle of an intersection, barely flinching as cars drove past him. He wore a grey overcoat and fedora hat and stared straight in Link’s direction.
The traffic came to a halt as the lights turned red. A group of school kids walked across the crosswalk, some pushing one another playfully, some obsessed with their phones as they walked. But when the children finally passed, the man in all grey was nowhere to be seen.
“Did you see that?” Link asked Kenji, pointing. “Some weirdo was just standing in the middle of the intersection. Cars were passing by him and everything. He didn’t even flinch.”
“Where?” Kenji asked, rising out of his chair to see. “Wait a second; you’re just trying to distract me so you can steal my food, aren’t you?” He tapped the side of his nose twice with his forefinger. “I’m onto you, buddy.”
Kenji sat back down and resumed the attack on his pancakes. Link stared out at the spot where the man had stood.
Weird, he thought. It was like he was looking straight at me.
****
The faded sign of Pam’s Pawn Shop loomed over Link’s head in bright yellow cursive lettering; the place he and Alex had visited more than a year ago. Link had no idea why, but his body was quivering like he was back in the Galbraz Mountains, suffering from hypothermia.
He knew it was foolish, but some part of him hoped the old lady, Pam, would have some answers to his whole Nocera dilemma. If the book truly was responsible for bringing their story to life, then Link figured finding out its origins could potentially free him and his sister from their peculiar imprisonment. And this was a second-hand shop after all, which meant someone must have either given the book away, or traded it in for cash. He just needed to track down who that person was. All that was left to do now was to put all his faith in the memory of an old woman.
“Need help reading?” Kenji asked, following his gaze at the store sign.
“Funny,” Link said, opening the door and motioning him forwards. “Ladies first.”
“Nah, not my kind of pawn shop,” Kenji said. “I’ll be back in a minute, anyway. I’m going to check out that smoothie place across the road. Me and Chad went there last week. Their Banana Blitz will blow your mind.”
“I’ve been hospitalized for less than a week, and you’ve already replaced me with Chad?” Link asked.
“Hey, you weren’t there when I needed you,” Kenji said with a shrug and a wry smile. He looked both ways before he crossed the road, both hands in his pockets.
“Get me one of those Banana Blitzes, then,” Link called out. “No ice, though. You know I have sensitive teeth.”
It took Link a few minutes to regain his composure; then he wiped his clammy hands on the front of his jeans and walked into the store. The A/C was refreshing as he walked in, but at the sight of the shopkeeper, he went back to the hot sweats he had been enduring outside. For some reason, Link felt more nervous than he would before a basketball playoff game as he walked through the aisles of TVs and surround sound systems.
The old lady was standing on a small ladder, directly across the pawn shop. She was hanging up a guitar on a hook, her back to him. Link swivelled his head from side to side. They were the only two in the store.
“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Pam called out, her back still to him.
“You know me?” Link asked, his voice faltering on the words.
Pam turned away from the shelf, startled. “Oh! Sorry, darling; I was expecting one of my workers. She’s running late again, you see. How can I help you?” She stepped down from the ladder and waddled towards him. White and wispy hair came down to her shoulders, and she had a hump in her back that could have rivalled the Hunchback of Notre Dame’s.
“Uh, do you recall ever seeing this book?” Link asked, holding the cover out for her to see.
Pam took the book from his hand, flipped it over and studied the back, running her long knobby fingers along the spine and lock. “The cover’s beautiful. But to answer your question: no, no I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before.”
Link’s heart sunk in his chest.
Pam popped open the lock and flicked through all the handwritten pages. “Is this your journal, darling?”
“No, it’s not,” Link said. “I got this book from you a year ago. You gave it to me and my younger sister for free.”
Pam cocked her head to the side and chuckled. “Really? You must have caught me on a good day,”
Link felt like smacking his forehead in frustration. But he couldn’t concede defeat just yet. I must refresh her memory somehow, he thought.
Link cleared his throat then stuck his arm out to his side. “She was this tall, blond hair, blue eyes. Kept yelling across the store. Was very rude. I was in the gaming section and she was by the bookcase.”
Pam looked at him pensively for a few seconds and then chuckled. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but it’s hard enough for me to remember all of my customers in a day, let alone a year ago.”
Link rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms. He’d been hedging his bets she’d at least know something. Maybe Alex was right, he thought. Just a wild theory after all.
A woman with auburn hair walked through the door, purse dangling from the crook of her elbow. She looked to be in her late thirties. A patch of freckles surrounded her nose.
“Sorry I’m late; flat tire,” she said hurriedly as she approached Pam.
“You had a flat tire last week,” Pam said, without breaking eye contact with Link.
“Well, I’ve got another one this week,” the auburn-haired lady replied irritably.
“You can start by sorting the DVDs back into alphabetical order,” Pam said, clearly dismissing her.
But the woman didn’t leave. She turned to face Link, her long hair almost whipping him in the eyes. “Um, do you happen to be Hunter by any chance?”
“Uh, yeah, that’s my last name,” he answered hesitantly, “Why’s that?”
“I was asked to give you this.” She extended her arm and handed him an orange canister with a white screw cap.
“By who?” Link asked.
“By whom,” Pam corrected with a pleasant smile.
The auburn-haired lady shrugged her bony shoulders. “Some weird guy outside dressed like a 1920s mobster.”
Panic engulfed him like an inferno. Could it have been the same man who was standing in the middle of the intersection? Link looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see him through the cluttered windows full of jewellery.
He turned back to the auburn-haired lady. “Was he dressed in all grey?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “Know him?”
He shook his head, perplexed by the canister clenched in his shaky hand.
Pam looked at him sincerely. “Sorry I can’t be of more help about the book, dear.”
“That’s OK,” he said, putting on a fake smile. “You two ladies have a lovely day. See you.”
Stepping out of the shop's air conditioning and into the scorching sun, Link immediately unscrewed the canister. Inside, there was a curled piece of paper and what had to be over thirty pills. Link unfurled the paper.
Sleep well, Hunter.
Kind regards,
Xavier
XO