The Oak Hotel - Watty Awards 2013 Finalist

Chapter Twenty - The Pandiment of Time

Chapter Twenty

The Pandiment of Time

They left Shipmaster Creek as the sun broke through what remained of yesterday’s storm clouds. After helping them restock their backpacks with food and other random supplies he thought they might need, Creek returned from the concession counter and tossed in a few boxes of PopTop Taffy. “For your trade with the sisters,” he said. They told him about their idea concerning the door at the top of the Painted Lighthouse. The aged sailor said nothing, but nodded and seemed to sigh with relief.

Though they had David’s compass, both were unsure of the exact direction they needed to go to reach the Painted Lighthouse. They decided on a north-east path toward the Sughi toh’Lodare river. The river, they knew from experience, would take them directly to the sea and the lighthouse.

It wasn’t long before they intersected the northern arc of the Burnam Tau’roh Eastern Rail Line. There wasn’t the slightest hint of the train’s horn in the distance.

“I guess we won’t be meeting up with BTEL #3 today,” Lincoln said, looking up and down the tracks.

“Probably not,” Kayleigh said.

They reached the Sughi before noon. Sitting on the shore of the river, they ate an early lunch.

“Cool! Look!” Lincoln announced, taking a large square of folded brown paper from his pack. Inside was a generous portion of popcorn.

“It’s all yours,” Kayleigh said, smiling. “I’m done with popcorn for a while.”

Upriver, to their left, they could see the rise of a small mountain. It was difficult to make out, but the Oak Hotel sat at the top, the smallest mark against the sky.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t take another day or two and see Mona?” Lincoln asked.

Kayleigh answered at once. “I’d love to see Mona. It would be nice to ask her questions without being hunted down by Stitch or having to leave in a hurry. But we have to get to the lighthouse. To that door.”

“It’s going to work,” Lincoln said seriously. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

Kayleigh shuddered. “I feel something coming.”

With lunch done, they continued eastward, following the shore of the river. Their progress was mostly downhill and each time they reached a depression in the land, they could see the sparkle of the Eastern Sea more clearly. Instead of talking about what might await them, they spoke about “normal” things. They talked (and worried) about their parents. About the new movies that were supposed to be out during the holidays. They wondered what their friends were doing at that moment.

“They’re probably at home doing homework,” Kayleigh said.

“That sounds so much more exciting than time-traveling into the past,” Lincoln said.

“Especially if it’s social studies homework,” Kayleigh added.

“True,” Lincoln laughed, knowing that social studies was Kayleigh’s least-favorite subject. “Do you think we’ll ever get a chance to work on that project you told your parents about?”

“If we don’t, we’ll have a heck of an excuse.”

And on they traveled.

They did, as they had hoped, reach the lighthouse before sunset. This time, however, there were no costumed dancers romping about to ethereal music. The only sound, keeping time with their hearts and breath, was that of the sea. The surf. The soft, sibilant rush of waves.