As a writer (as a person really) I have a few goals for myself. The first important one is to be published. Another one has more to do with the content of my writing. Specifically I want to incorporate religion and/or politics (with some measure of success of course). The volatile nature of these two subjects continues to confuse me. Simply put, I’m not ready for the expected and unexpected reactions I may or may not get by writing about these subjects. That said, my insecurity doesn’t mean I haven’t tried before. This week’s piece, Flat Planet, is my most ‘daring’ attempt at writing about religion to date. I started Flat Planet with the hope that I would be able to pass this religion/politics block and, in doing so, ‘learn’ how professional writers do it. Of course that was a silly expectation; writing about religion successfully once doesn’t necessarily mean I can do it again.
From my perspective there’s a lot to be said about this piece, both good and bad. For one, it’s a novella that really wants to be a novel. I make comments throughout the piece that really should be expanded, but I never got the chance. Additionally, the setting of the work is different from Earth, enough so that I should spend a great deal of time explaining ‘how the world works’. Any further edits I make would require that I slow down my writing to allow for the proper pace and exposition. This very need prevents me from returning to it for the time being as I currently have other works that I would rather spend my time on, and because I’m still not entirely ready to tackle the subject matter. In this sense the ‘unpublishable’ nature of this piece is slightly different from the previous works; I currently intend to return to it and that the final story will contain many of the same plot points as it does at the moment. Any eventual edit/publish, however, will be so far removed from this blog I feel that it’s okay to post it now.
The voice of this piece is especially interesting (to me at least). I wrote Flat Planet while I was taking a mythology class and so was interested in the oral tradition of story telling. This idea was then incorporated into my own writing via a ‘myth’ that I inserted throughout the piece. The myth is intended to explain some of the taboos associated with certain specific actions, specifically traveling over the Edge of the planet (a driving point of the story). This myth was not a part of the story proper, but rather was meant to enhance the reader’s understanding of the characters’ interactions and decisions. In this way I ran into one of my largest stumbling blocks to date: the two voice narrative. Part of the issue with the two voice narrative is that, at some point in the story, the two voices need to be connected. Unfortunately, the way I had set everything up, I was forced to bend over backward to accomplish this and in the end I, literally, Dues Ex Machinaed by adding god. When I expand Flat Planet into a full novel I plan on playing with the way information is presented so that the two voice narrative is removed.
It must be said that Flat Planet is, though not unique, different when compared to my other writing in that it is an ‘adventure story’. Its plot is mainly driven by characters’ action rather than their thoughts and characterization. Of course, the other example I have of this plot driven adventure story style of writing is The Six. Neither story is necessarily bad given adequate attention, but they don’t fit very well in the workshop environment where short, character driven stories are almost required. Additionally, while I enjoy writing them, sometimes I find that my ability to create a good adventure story is a little loose. In the past I haven’t outlined well enough in advance, which has limited my ability to keep up with the overall flow of the piece (another side effect of concept writing, which I talked about last week).
As a final note I have finished this piece, though I won’t be posting it in its entirety. The last 10+ pages don’t work in a variety of ways, including an overly dramatized reunion and, of course, the (unnecessary) addition of god.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Flat Planet
He created a flat world so that we can look out at the heavens above us and never see the fallen below.
Mark leaned closer to Damien’s ear as a tourist walked slowly by. Her left arm rested gently in a young man’s elbow while her right held the tiny hand of a girl. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if you get caught?” Mark whispered. The little girl blinked her deep brown eyes at them; they both immediately lowered their own and continued sweeping the back porch of the shop Mark’s uncle owned. It had to be ready for the tourists who would come for breakfast to watch the sun rise over the Edge the next morning. “We can still go home.” Damien waved away the suggestion briefly letting the large black splotch of a mole show as his shirt rose over his elbow. He looked over the fence next to the sidewalk. They were nine, lived in the closest town to the Edge of the world, and Damien had been dared to see what was on the other side of that Edge. “Come on, this is stupid. What if you get over the side and find that gravity still pulls down. No one is certain that there is even another side to the world.”
Most of the town they lived in had been placed on flat ground of the lowest of the six steps of God. Before cars it would have taken a full day to reach the next step. In many ways this town didn’t really exist before traveling allowed for two-day trips, one to get here and one to get back. “If I don’t go over that Edge, Timmy is going to make fun of me forever. He double dared me after all, and he’s going to even help. I wouldn’t be able to get to the Edge if his dad wasn’t in charge of maintenance of the wall.” The other half of the town, the part where the tourists went and spent their short trips, was not on the ground. Shortly after quick travel from step to step was available, a large platform had been built that extended from the last step to almost the Edge itself, only a few hundred paces seemed separate the restaurants and hotels from the view they were built for. It had been praised and heralded at the time as the next biggest step to reaching the sky itself. The town boomed and people moved there simply to make the visitors’ trips more comfortable. Mark didn’t know this, of course, he wasn’t even born when his parents moved into his house three blocks from the end of the lowest step. Even now all he could think about was the plan Damien and Timmy had made so that Damien could fulfill the bet. “Besides, there’s that tree that grows next to the Edge, I’m gonna tie a rope to it, if I do drop it will catch me and you can pull me back up.”
Mark shrugged. “If you say so.” His voice betrayed his uncertainty, but Damien seemed to miss the hint. Instead he looked around. The little girl and her parents walked into one of the hotels for the night leaving the two boys alone. Mark’s uncle was in the kitchen cleaning and didn’t notice the boys as they ran down the sidewalk leaving their work unfinished running their hands across the smooth metallic guard wall as they ran.
The wall was the safety net of sorts that everyone had decided on to keep people from falling off the Edge. Everyone knows that gravity pulls us down. If you walk off the Edge gravity will just pull you right off the world. Mark’s grandmother had told him and his friends when they asked her if anyone had gone over before. She died shortly after that, four years ago, from a brain aneurysm; Mark hadn’t been sure if what she had said was true or if she was crazy like the people on TV who have brain problems. After asking around for other people’s opinions on the subject the general consensus had been the same as his grandmother’s. “Timmy says the wall is over thirty feet high. Taller than his dad. Taller than my dad!” Everyday a team of the town residents would go out and ‘inspect the integrity of the wall’s structure.’ Mark had heard that phrase so many times from Timmy who had heard it so many times from his father that he could recite it in his sleep. “Timmy said he was going to meet us at the door to stairs his dad takes to the surface.” After a brief pause Damien jumped slightly. “It’s almost like we’re going to another planet!” Mark smiled weakly as he looked around, making sure no one could see them.
When they reached the door Timmy was there and as they waited for him to appear Damien paced and talked about the plan, going over everything to make sure he had it right and that Mark knew what his job was. Every few minutes he laughed nervously, drew his hands through his hair and equated the two them to some sort of explorer pair; he was always the leader who knew what he was doing and Mark was the stupid side kick who stared off into space and messed up his end of the deal only to have Damien fix everything and save the day. In some ways Mark thought this was true as he stared up into the night sky forgetting that he was supposed to be waiting for Timmy, Damien saw him first. “There he is!” Timmy quietly rounded a corner looking around and almost ran away when Damien pointed at him and yelled. “Where were you? We’ve been waiting for you. I was starting to get scared Mark’s uncle was going to start looking for us. If I can’t get over the Edge because you were late I still win the bet.” Timmy scoffed but had no real response other than ‘nuh uh.’
From his pocket Timmy pulled out a large silver key and placed it in the lock of the door. “Last chance to back out.” Mark said as Timmy opened the door to the staircase down. “We can still go home, I’m sure Timmy won’t do anything bad if you don’t go over the Edge. Will you Timmy?” Once again Timmy scoffed but paired it with a ‘yuh uh’ instead. Damien didn’t seem to hear the confirmation of a prank as he started descending the staircase; a rope Timmy had brought for him was swinging loosely from his shoulder and a second key hung from his wrist and swung with each step down. When Mark asked about it Timmy told him it was for the second door, the one that allowed the work crew get to the far side of the wall if they needed to.
The planet this close the Edge was steep, rocky, and incredibly unsteady unlike the steps which were all flat where there was land and deep where there was water. Mark refused to stand up straight and kept his weight on at least three hands and feet if he could help it. It was slow moving towards the tree that had somehow found its livelihood right on the Edge. Damien didn’t seem to have the same hesitations and was tying the rope around the tree when Mark finally sat down on a rock a few feet away, the other end was already tied around Mark’s waist. Mark suppressed the urge to turn around and return to house, staring out at the sky extending beyond the ground made his muscles feel like jelly and sweat. “Are you really sure this is a good idea? What if the tree falls?” Mark asked as Damien checked the two knots just in case. “I can’t lift you and the tree.” Mark looked at Damien and thought he could see a hesitation in his actions as though he were considering the offer to return home. Eventually Damien shook his head and instructed Mark to check the knots. He complied by crawling to the tree and re-tying the rope and then crawling to Damien to check that one. He was unhappy with how loose Damien had tied the rope and set to re-tying that one as well. In one quick jerk he tightened the make-shift safety rope as much as could and tied it with as good and intricate a knot he could think of. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Damien said, desperately trying to breathe as his organs readjusted around the pressing rope.
“My brother calls that a ‘famous last words’ quote.” Mark said under his breathe.
Since He only desired people to live on the top of the world there was no reason to create anything below. So a void of nothingness was allowed to remain where His followers couldn’t look.
Mark watched as Damien descended towards the goal of his bet and slowly gave Damien more slack, always ready to tighten his grip and brace his legs if Damien fell. There were rocks jutting out of the surface of the Edge and enough dents and depressions that Damien could easily find places to put his feet for support, still Mark worried ever eyeing the tree next to him. It looked like any other plant of its kind, tall wide and spreading apart the taller it got. A few roots could be seen breaking the ground’s surface before disappearing into the rubble of stone and debris as it looked for a water and food like his teacher told him they did. The leaves didn’t move because there wasn’t any breeze here to make them, they were so still that Mark thought they were all turned in the same direction: upwards towards the sky waiting for the sun to rise each morning just like the patrons at his uncle’s restaurant.
Mark felt a tug on the rope and tightened his grip so it wouldn’t move. Spreading his legs apart he waited, ready to hold Damien’s weight from falling off the planet forever with all the strength he could muster. A second tug soon followed and he let his grip loosen, allowing the rope to begin moving again; Mark was too sacred to look at Damien’s progress and instead did what he could by making constellations in the stars he couldn’t see from his house, the new ones that hid below the Edge.
Of the people who lived many wondered what marvels they could not see or understand. Most looked to the Heavens for answers examining the stars and finding meaning in what they saw. A few, however, looked to what they could not see with their eyes and the void below began to be filled.
“Hey, where is he?” Mark jumped at the sudden voice. Timmy was jumping from rock to rock heading towards Mark and the tree. “That rope connected to him?”
Mark turned back to his task and ignored Timmy’s question, the answer was obvious anyway. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be making sure no one notices us or closes the door or something?” Mark thought that maybe the adults had told him to come get them and that all three of them were in trouble. He turned around to see if he could see anyone else coming; he almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing and let go of the rope a little.
Timmy stepped forward and grabbed the rope from Mark in case he dropped it and laughed. “You have any idea what time it is? No one’s gonna miss you this late. ‘Sides, your uncle thinks you’re at Damien’s house, my dad thinks I’m at your house and Damien’s grandma thinks he’s at my house.” Timmy paused for a second. “Didn’t you know that? Damien said he told you.” Mark shrugged. Damien only told him what he needed to know; eventually it would have come up to make sure the lie worked. “I just came to check on him, see if I owed him that dollar. Besides, he has that key doesn’t he? I need it back if we’re to make sure no one knows we came out here.” Mark mentioned that it was still in the door, he had to have seen it on his way here. Timmy shrugged and started walking back without looking over the Edge. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said casually over his shoulder.
Mark wanted to follow, unsure of Timmy’s motives. Timmy was known for his pranks and Mark could see him locking one of the doors in order to make them wait until someone came so they would get the in trouble and he wouldn’t have to pay Damien a dollar. He’d have a laugh and they’d be without TV for the rest of their lives.
A sudden succession of tugs brought Mark’s attention back to the rope in his hands. He began pulling up whatever slack he could and braced for Damien to fall. He thought briefly about placing a foot against the tree but decided against it, he still didn’t feel it was very sturdy. Mark forced himself to hesitantly look over the Edge to see what Damien was doing when there was no more slack. The rope hadn’t moved, no more tugs or sudden jerks, it was as though Damien had simply stopped moving.
Mark caught a single glimpse of what was happening; Damien had gone limp and was in the arms of a second person. The newcomer was of a darker complexion than anything Mark had seen before and there wasn’t enough cloth on him to cover his upper body. Below the two of them, at the other Edge, Mark could see the silhouettes of more heads looking up at him. The sun sat in the air above them lazily preparing for its sunrise.
Immediately Mark stood and ran, not caring how rocky the ground was or that Timmy had indeed tried to lock them out of the town but hadn’t quite closed the door entirely. He ran straight for his bedroom and didn’t come out for two days, never once telling his parents what was wrong or why he wasn’t at Damien’s house or where Damien even was. He didn’t even confess anything at Damien’s funeral months later when the empty casket was lowered into the ground; instead he buried himself in whatever he could trying to forget what he saw or to somehow explain that they weren’t real.
Those that looked for answers where nothing was began to create truths in this nothingness. Those that traveled below claimed to see a brighter more beautiful heaven than that of the one above. They became so engrossed with the false heavens that they began to stay longer and longer always speaking the beautiful sky that shown brighter than the brightest day but darker than the darkest nights. They became so engrossed in this world that everyone that went eventually stayed and never returned.
“Hello, my name is Professor Mark Kotch. I go by Professor Kotch, Professor K, and, behind my back, Professor Crotch.” Mark wrote his names on the board for his newest students, a few of them laughed at his joke though everyone knew it was true. “I am this campus’ religion studies professor with a specific focus on the mythologies associated with the creation of our world. That is to say I, and this class, will focus on the mythologies about why our world is flat, what is on the other side of the world, where our God is now according to the mythologies, how our mythologies can be incorporated in today’s world, when and by who the mythologies were created…” A hand in the back of the room appeared above the heads of the students close to her before he could even finish his sentence. “Yes, you in the back, what can you possibly question at this point? I haven’t even finished the list of what we will be doing; you can’t possibly refute what hasn’t already happened.” The student stood up, ignoring the question, and stood in front of everyone’s eyes. Hesitantly her mouth began to move and form words. Mark heard a vague mumble but couldn’t understand what the words were. “I’m sorry? I can’t hear you, you have to speak up.”
The girl blushed and looked away, here eyes were covered by long bangs and Mark couldn’t see them. She looked the tiniest bit old to be in the class, but then again grandmothers had spent their last years earning an undergrad simply because they could. “S-sorry, but I wanted to know something about what is on the other side of the world.” The voice was incredibly breathy and Mark barely suppressed a grimace at its nasality; yet once she got over her embarrassment of all the eyes on her she held herself tall and spoke with an authority that rivaled Mark’s casualty. Every eye was on her and he blushed again but remained standing. “Is it true that you think people live on the other side of the world?”
To this Mark could only sit down and stare at the girl thinking of an answer, it was the exact thing he wanted someone to ask, only he wanted them to ask it farther in the term instead of on the first day. Grabbing the two stacks of papers on his desk he handed them to two students to pass around. “One of those papers is your syllabus; there isn’t much to say about it, if I change anything I’ll let you know beforehand if I can. The other is the oldest known myth. Your homework tonight to read this myth and come back with responses focusing on that lady’s question, you are dismissed for the day.”
A chaste woman lost her betrothed to the lower side and wanted to know what wickedness took him from her. She traveled over the Edge to see what God would have created to entice His people and split them from their intended. Instead of bright days and starry nights she found nothing. All the men and women who disappeared simply stared down at the blackness that God had left and saw the images they wanted. She wandered amongst the crowds of people trying to find her intended; when she did she could only weep at the deadened face turned down at the sky.
Principle Tim Grebe’s office was the only administrative office that no one could find. He liked it that way; he didn’t desire the lime light and only wanted the people specifically searching for him to know where he was. Mark knew this, and also knew where his old friend’s office was from the many trips to see him since he had been hired a few years ago. “A student has complained that you teach nothing but outdated false stories about the origin of our little planet.” Mark couldn’t suppress a smirk as he lifted up the left corner of his mouth, he let nothing else move. Principle Grebe leaned back in his chair and let the tension in his body fall, Mark knew that confirming the complaint wasn’t what the other man wanted. Before speaking again Grebe’s composed his face so Mark couldn’t discern depression from anger or any other emotion. Mark was aware of the ploy and waited for the other man to speak, the smirk worked itself up his cheek until his muscles were straining at the effort. “Why do you always smirk when I bring you here? Am I never anything but serious?”
Mark shook his head at the principle. “Yes, you and I both know that you are always serious. You and I also both know that I am tenured. Even if you wanted to, as long as I didn’t do anything illegal, you can’t fire me.” Mark paused for the briefest of seconds before deciding that he did, in fact, want to keep talking. “I also believe that you don’t want to fire me.” Principle Grebe’s face remained straight; there was only a slight hint at real agitation this time, no red reached the man’s face in acknowledgment of the truth but a tiny vein started to pop out of his neck. Something had changed, either he didn’t want Mark at the school, had a way to get rid of him, or some combination of both. “Look, you and I both know where my interests lie, you knew that the moment my name came up as a possible hire, like I’ve told you before: myths are simply the rationalization of something that we as humans don’t understand. It doesn’t mean they are true…”
“But you believe they are.” Dr. Grebe interrupted. “Ever since that unfortunate incident when Damien fell off the planet you have been convinced that he did not, in fact, die.”
Mark could only sit back, wondering what part of this conversation was different. What did he know that Mark didn’t? His apprehensions of what Principle Grebe could be holding over him made him want to explain his actions that night, re-live the fear and panic of seeing people that lived and survived on the opposite side of the world. He wanted to yell and scream at the man like he had done for years, but it had gotten him no where and there was no reason that was going to change now. No one believed him anymore now than they had when he finally broke down and told his parents what happened. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw.”
Dr. Grebe chuckled at the argument Mark was trying to start. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to give you an opportunity. You have asked us for years for the permission to venture to the other side, always saying that ‘if you could just prove it’ or ‘Damien might still be alive, we could still save him.’ If you say people down live there you should be fine and be able to come back and tell us everything of your discoveries.” Mark didn’t pay attention to the coy, insulting, temper of his bosses’ voice; the shock and excitement that filled him made him forget his childhood friend was no more on his side than he had ever been.
The woman attempted to reunite with her betrothed by gaining his attention but he simply stared into the black nothingness of a sky. “Why do you stare into the sky below! There is no day or night to distinguish. Please, return home and let us wed under the joyous eyes of our God who created everything above.” No one heard her pleas at first, but as she grew more frantic and hysteric in her wish to return home she began to sob and pray. “Dear Maker of all things please show these people the illusion they have made for themselves.”
All the preparations were set; Mark had everything he needed in order to live on the under side for a week of observations and experiments and whatever the chemists or physicists or biologists wanted to pile on, simply because they were to scared to come themselves. A few initial safety precautions were made so that, if gravity did indeed keep pulling him down as everyone thought, he wouldn’t die immediately and people topside could pull him to safety. Otherwise everything else was up to him; weeks and months of wilderness training and first aid were crammed into his skull so he could survive and return home healthy and active. That is, if he was even able to return at all.
Most of the tasks Mark wanted to do wouldn’t happen until he had gotten to the underside; the technical and preparatory work had been given to a team lead by a man named Kyle. The man wandered around calmly giving orders to some of his former construction-turned safety crew while others received only sharp clean remarks in what might have been his loudest voice; it cut through the air and even the tree seemed to shudder from fear of it. Through the bouts of anger and frustration Mark couldn’t hate him; he was doing his job and loved it. His rural, fourth step, accent made it all almost comical and his advanced age made it wonderful to watch. There was only one person that he never seemed to need to instruct: Miss Hannah, as she was called, always seemed to know what job she needed to do before Kyle did. She never spoke and her pale face was always behind a book or staring at something too important to give any notice to Mark. He never quite figured out why she wasn’t in charge, he never quite asked either.
It had been a few days since his last training class had ended, which meant a large portion of his time was spent watching the safety crew secure lines, acquire materials for him, or get yelled at by Kyle. He could also wander his old town and see how it had changed since he had left.
What he saw didn’t shock him too much. Most of the shops and restaurants and hotels had been closed in the years since he left. Shortly after Damien’s death fewer and fewer people wanted to look up to the stars or watch the sun-rise when someone had died falling off the Edge. The town had become a ghost town; the wall was beginning to show its age and wear and the only people that still felt it necessary to remain did so because they couldn’t go anywhere else, not because they didn’t want to.
Mark was pleased to find the tree he had originally tied Damien’s rope too was still standing against the universe. He still wondered why it seemed to be reaching for the sky when every other tree of it kind seemed to just sit where they had been planted. “Hey, professor.” A gruff voice interrupted his thoughts and Mark turned to find Kyle walking slowly up to him, taking one unsteady step at a time. “You sure you don’t want no one to go over with you? It seems mighty stupid to go on over alone. Even if you find it livable down there that buddy system is still a mighty good thing.”
Mark had been scared for the briefest of seconds Kyle had come to yell at him for just standing around staring at trees or that the entire plan had been called off in the last few minutes. “I don’t believe I ever argued with that. No one ever volunteered and I certainly can’t pass this opportunity up simply because everyone else is scared of what I might find.” Mark started to lean against the aged safety wall but decided against it and cleared his throat trying to decide what to do. Eventually he sat on a rock and looked up at Kyle’s face, never once actually seeing it as the stars twinkled down at them. “I always thought the night sky was better than the daytime. The sun’s way too bright this close.” Kyle nodded without any expression on his face, Mark wasn’t sure what he was thinking but didn’t really care; nothing was going to convince him it wasn’t a good idea to go over. “I’m going over tomorrow night right?”
Kyle nodded. “That way you can be sure the sun ain’t gonna burn you to a crisp when you’re on the other side; in case it’s closer to that side ‘r somethin’.” Kyle looked up the wall’s height and stared at the something Mark couldn’t quite see. “If no one else is comin’ with you I’ll volunteer me time. T’aint got nothin’ better to do.”
Mark smiled at the old man. “Sure, I’d love to have you come along, though I’m in charge when we get over there.” Kyle agreed to this and immediately went to his superiors to work out the details. Mark was sure Kyle could handle himself if the situation got bad, maybe the trip would have to be shortened because the supplies, originally meant for one, would have to be shared between two people, but that was fine. Better to have a buddy than go it alone, so everyone said.
When He heard her plea He came from His resting place and saw that some people had discovered a land below. The land He had not intended them to inhabit. He looked through their eyes to see what kept them there rather than in the paradise He had created.
Through each man’s eyes He discovered the corruptive desires they saw and began to weep at what He saw. He wept great tears of sorrow that fell into the sky and slowly created many more stars that had not been in existence before.
The stars shone brightly and honestly through the people’s illusions and the people became confused and angry at the interruptions of their paradise. They searched for the interrupter and upon seeing Daw they placed blame on her immediately; even Amir scorned and yelled at her for destroying their paradise.
It was only when everything was ready and all the cranes were in place that Mark really truly believed he was going over the Edge like Tim had told him he would. There had always been an apprehension that this whole setup was just a cruel trick his department was playing on him simply so they could laugh in his face when he came back to work with a bruised ego and deflated ambitions.
Kyle was all ready and giving his last instructions to the crew as the sun disappeared behind the planet’s crest on its way to the opposite Edge. “It’s ‘bout that time Mister Mark. Miss Hannah there will help ya into your harness. Everything else is set.” A mousy woman with straight brown hair that couldn’t have had the strength to carry a bag full of books helped Mark pull on a harness that was designed to prevent anything from moving. When Hannah walked away Mark couldn’t quite figure out how she had gotten the straps so tight so he could hardly breath, even his arms and legs were a little constricted by the tight harness. “You’ll be goin’ first, then the supplies, and I’ll be following. You still remember how to get them to pull you back if you need it?”
Mark nodded absently as he stared at the darkening sky. He imagined he could see a line of darkness pass over the sky allowing the stars to appear as the sun went further over the West Edge. “Yeah, tug on my safety rope twice, they’ll pull me up. Tug once and they’ll stop, tug again after counting to ten and they’ll start letting me down again.” He said just loud enough for Kyle to hear and be satisfied. Hannah came back and escorted Mark through the temporary wall.
As they stood with their backs to the city staring at the place where rock meets sky Mark imagined what it would be like to run forward and leap. Hannah turned to him and began readjusting his harness once more to ensure it was a tight as it could be. When she finished she stepped forward, between Mark and the Edge, and held up and ear piece for him to take. With hesitation Mark grabbed it and placed it in his ear. He waited for someone to say something but all he heard was silence. Hannah stepped back through the temporary wall’s door and disappeared.
As he waited for Kyle to appear so they could start Mark sat down and stared at the only place on in the planet only a handful of people had stepped foot. It seemed silly to be scared of a place like this; it was so calm and unassuming. Like so many years ago the air was still and the rocks were strewn about in chunks. “Quiet, desolate, and ready to kill if someone takes a wrong step,” Mark mumbled to himself. He could see the rope Damien had used to climb over the Edge was still there, being absorbed by the tree, its bark gently overlapping the thick strands of Manila hemp that he had forgotten when he ran away, and which no one else had the desire to even think about. With a quick, fluid motion, he stood up and approached the rope to examine it, but the cable attached to his harness hadn’t given him enough slack yet and he came up just short of reaching his quarry. “Slack!” He yelled to whoever cared.
Kyle walked up and placed his palm on Mark’s shoulder. “I’m sorry buddy, but we have somthin’ else we gotta be payin’ attention to. We aint got time to be reminiscin’ ‘bout past mistakes simply to forget about what we’re tasked with now.” Mark nodded and allowed the old man to direct him back to the temporary wall. They were going to head over ten feet from the tree. “That’s where new mistakes happen.” Mark briefly thought of walking to the tree instead of climbing over the first chance he got.
Daw ran. She ran as fast as she could. It was not fast enough. The mob of anger and resentment followed too closely and too quickly for her to escape. As she approached the Edge she knew that she would not have the time to climb back home. God also knew. He saw the distress of Amil’s betrothed and became enraged. He thought of what He could do to protect the maiden who He had endangered. He watched her run towards the Edge. She was prepared to jump. She was prepared to put her life into His hands because that was all she could do. He knew she wouldn’t live if she flew; either space would envelope her or the ground would take her. So He caught her. As her foot touched the Edge of the world he wrapped her in His hands. The mob saw this and ran in fear and pain, scattering across the underworld. When God was satisfied they were of no threat to Daw, He removed His hands and let her free. She didn’t move, as a testament to God and fear of man, in His embrace Daw was changed. In her place stood a tree to remind those of the world under of God’s power.
It was with the briefest hesitation that Mark abandoned his idea to approach the tree. He could see Hannah’s eyes in the closest crane staring at him. They’re big brown circles boreing into his thoughts and ambitions. He shivered under her gaze and for the first time feared what she was capable of if something didn’t go her way. Mark understood why Kyle never had to yell at her now.
Starting the decent wasn’t hard at all. All Mark and Kyle had to do was keep their feet between them and the rock wall of the planet, every few minutes one would look at the bag of supplies swollen with the extra supplies stuffed into it for Kyle. As they descended Mark watched the brown color of the top soil dissolve into a white powder that crumpled to dust when his feet hit the surface. “How ya doin’?” Kyle asked when his feet first hit the powder. A small pile of what looked like dandruff was collecting on his shoulders and he kept his mouth closed to try and prevent too much of the fine dust to enter his lungs. He stuck his thumb in the air and thrust his fist up at Kyle.
‘There are not thumbs signs for scared,’ Mark thought. Everything he understood and knew of the world had been thrown upside down when Damien was stolen by the shadows. He had spent his entire life trying to understand what he saw and where they had come from. Now was the time he got to test all of his hypotheses. He drew his thumb sideways across the next layer of rock; its color was that of an egg yoke.
Mark knew that his classes on geology in grade school told him that the many layers of rock and clay found on the steps were from the layering and aging of the planet. They never could explain why the steps existed or why there were even layers instead the teachers always changed the subject by giving the clay from the lowest step to play with. Damien always had created towers with the intention of breaking them down. Mark built the duplicate towers but never wanted to knock his down when it was time to put the clay back at the end of the day. Damien would knock both their towers down and Mark would cry. ‘If all the steps were made up of layers, how come the Edge is also layered?’ Mark thought on this for a bit but the explanations and rationalizations those justifications spiraled out of control and made him turn back to the chocolate layer that was now in front of him.
In an attempt to prevent the thought of the layers in front of him Mark remembered his relationship with Damien before that day. They were inseparable buddies who spent their time playing games Damien chose and Mark never liked. Timmy moved to the city when they were six and Damien immediately liked him asking him to join their games of cops and robber. Damien and Timmy always played the good cop/bad cop pair who went to apprehend the evil robber stealing everyone’s money. Being the robber never bother Mark, even before Timmy moved in that’s the role he played. It was the fact that it was two against one and Timmy, the bad cop, never seemed to care if he got Mark into any real trouble. Mark realized he never really forgave Damien for allowing it to happen.
The surface of the Edge changed from pale purple to grey to a painful pastel green back to the powdery white from closer to the surface and Mark stared at it lot really seeing nor caring. His interest was one the other side among the shadowed heads and, hopefully, a grown up Damien ready to reminisce and remember the days before he ‘died.’ Mark had read too many stories and seen too many TV shows to really believe that was going to happen. In truth he hoped the worst Damien would do is demand a dollar, give him a titie twister and a black eye, and then demand to return home. Even that seemed a little light.
There was no indication of when they would get halfway. No plant lived on the Edge of the world. The various layers Mark stared at absentmindedly as he thought about his reunion with his childhood friend weren’t uniform enough to gauge their progress by. Mark was too preoccupied thinking of the eventual hugs and tears and profuse apologies regarding everything wrong they had done to each other within the first eight years, including that fateful day. So it was a complete surprise when Mark stopped. Damien was beginning to introduce Mark to the shadowy heads of the people who stole him when his slacked legs got pulled to the ground. He didn’t have enough time to react before he was laying face down on the dirt and rock that he seemed smooth yet spongy under his face, the rust color mixing with rocks and dust from the above layers that had fallen during the centuries. “What on the world…?” He muttered as he spit dirt out of his mouth. The cable, which was still being giving slack, was lying on the ground awkwardly as it tried to coil at his feet but couldn’t quite bend enough to do so. “Kyle, get ready to stand,” He yelled to the other man. Mark tugged his cable once before anymore slack could hit him across the shins as it bounced mindlessly, fighting against gravity and its own freedom.
Kyle gazed downward he descended closer to Mark. “What’s happenin’ mister Mark?” As he reached the middle point he fell into the dirt and splayed around while he tried to stand back up all the while sending dust into the air. Mark quickly felt all his pores fill with grime and sneezed from the small particles that made it past his fanning hand into his nose. “Ah,” Kyle said as though he understood what was happening completely but didn’t really and tugged once on his cable and that of the supply bag’s. “Well, we aint over yet. Why’d we stop?”
“I think we’re halfway. The gravity is pulling us in.” Kyle looked at Mark, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes stared without really seeing as he tried to figure out what Mark just said. “That downward pull you feel up top? Well, the other side has to feel it too. This is the middle point, where neither down nor up has more pull, so we get pulled in instead.” All of Mark classes and training time learning to talk and explain new information to students didn’t exist at that moment while he attempted to clarify the simple facts of life to an elderly gentleman who should have, by all rights, known them already.
Kyle’s face never quite showed understanding of Mark’s explanation, but he shrugged anyway and looked at the layers of rock and sediment from where they had come and where they needed to go. “I don’t really care ‘bout all that. All I care ‘bout is that this means we got to climb the rest of the way.” He reached into the supplies bag and pulled out some climbing gear we had been given: Mark could see a hammer, some lockable and non-lockable carabineers, as well as some bolts. “You first, you remember how to keep us safe?” He handed Mark the bolts and hammer.
As he secured the cable to the rock wall by hammering in a bolt, Mark pulled on the anchor to ensure it wasn’t going to move if pressure was applied in case he fell and jerked his safety line. He climbed the Edge scanning for handholds and footholds allowing his excess slack to run out before turning back to Kyle. “What are we going do about the bag? Neither of us can pull it up alone.”
Kyle handed Mark the cable connected to the bag. “We can pull it up when we get there. No use worryin’ about it now, not like somethin’s gonna come by and eat it.” Mark briefly thought about it and decided Kyle was more right than any suggestions he could come up with. After he tugged on the chord once more he climbed as fast as he could to ensure the slack given to him didn’t grow too large; very few feet he placed another bolt into the rock and made sure it was set. The cable was a little too stiff and limiting for this sort of climbing but the layers of rock and harder substances allowed for an easy enough climb that Mark thought it all balanced out well.
While Kyle waited for Mark to gain a decent lead on him he stared out into the night sky craning his neck to look at as many stars as he could; he too pulled on his chord to begin his slack. It was as dark as it ever could be; the sun was still setting on their side of the world and had yet rise on the other. “My wife always hated livin’ with the city folk. ‘Twas the only place I could get a job with my talents, the rise before the sun simply to fall asleep well after it’d gone to bed itself never felt good on my bones. I had to go work in the factories and construction yards in the city where the lights challenged the brilliant light of sun even in the night. We could never see the stars.” Mark saw him tug the chord again but couldn’t say anything before the little slack Kyle did have began disappearing over the now far Edge. “God, if she could see this now.”
“Kyle, I think you told them you’re in trouble.” Mark spoke hesitantly, scared of bringing Kyle back from his memories of life past. Even as he did so Kyle began rising up into the air back from where they had come, his feet dragging along the middle layer of earth.
“Dag Nabbit!” He began tugging on his rope to try and get them to stop, but that only made them pull him up even faster. “I’ll come back when I get everything all sorted out. You might as well keep goin’. Leave the bag. Like I said: ‘nuthin’s gonna eat right?” He gave a jovial wink and Mark turned around to do as he instructed, climbing a few feet and placing a bolt wondering why no one thought to bring him back as well. He eventually decided he didn’t really care, Kyle wasn’t part of the deal for most of the planning and he didn’t have to be part of the deal now. As long as he made it to his destination he was content.
We God saw the sacrifice Daw had made he thought about how prevent this from happening again. He thought about all the people who now lived on the under side of the world and decide something. He decided to stay. He decided to stay and watch the people and try and understand what they would become without his direct guidance. So He took the form of a human and lived on the underside of the world and watched and waited.
***
Mark leaned closer to Damien’s ear as a tourist walked slowly by. Her left arm rested gently in a young man’s elbow while her right held the tiny hand of a girl. “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if you get caught?” Mark whispered. The little girl blinked her deep brown eyes at them; they both immediately lowered their own and continued sweeping the back porch of the shop Mark’s uncle owned. It had to be ready for the tourists who would come for breakfast to watch the sun rise over the Edge the next morning. “We can still go home.” Damien waved away the suggestion briefly letting the large black splotch of a mole show as his shirt rose over his elbow. He looked over the fence next to the sidewalk. They were nine, lived in the closest town to the Edge of the world, and Damien had been dared to see what was on the other side of that Edge. “Come on, this is stupid. What if you get over the side and find that gravity still pulls down. No one is certain that there is even another side to the world.”
Most of the town they lived in had been placed on flat ground of the lowest of the six steps of God. Before cars it would have taken a full day to reach the next step. In many ways this town didn’t really exist before traveling allowed for two-day trips, one to get here and one to get back. “If I don’t go over that Edge, Timmy is going to make fun of me forever. He double dared me after all, and he’s going to even help. I wouldn’t be able to get to the Edge if his dad wasn’t in charge of maintenance of the wall.” The other half of the town, the part where the tourists went and spent their short trips, was not on the ground. Shortly after quick travel from step to step was available, a large platform had been built that extended from the last step to almost the Edge itself, only a few hundred paces seemed separate the restaurants and hotels from the view they were built for. It had been praised and heralded at the time as the next biggest step to reaching the sky itself. The town boomed and people moved there simply to make the visitors’ trips more comfortable. Mark didn’t know this, of course, he wasn’t even born when his parents moved into his house three blocks from the end of the lowest step. Even now all he could think about was the plan Damien and Timmy had made so that Damien could fulfill the bet. “Besides, there’s that tree that grows next to the Edge, I’m gonna tie a rope to it, if I do drop it will catch me and you can pull me back up.”
Mark shrugged. “If you say so.” His voice betrayed his uncertainty, but Damien seemed to miss the hint. Instead he looked around. The little girl and her parents walked into one of the hotels for the night leaving the two boys alone. Mark’s uncle was in the kitchen cleaning and didn’t notice the boys as they ran down the sidewalk leaving their work unfinished running their hands across the smooth metallic guard wall as they ran.
The wall was the safety net of sorts that everyone had decided on to keep people from falling off the Edge. Everyone knows that gravity pulls us down. If you walk off the Edge gravity will just pull you right off the world. Mark’s grandmother had told him and his friends when they asked her if anyone had gone over before. She died shortly after that, four years ago, from a brain aneurysm; Mark hadn’t been sure if what she had said was true or if she was crazy like the people on TV who have brain problems. After asking around for other people’s opinions on the subject the general consensus had been the same as his grandmother’s. “Timmy says the wall is over thirty feet high. Taller than his dad. Taller than my dad!” Everyday a team of the town residents would go out and ‘inspect the integrity of the wall’s structure.’ Mark had heard that phrase so many times from Timmy who had heard it so many times from his father that he could recite it in his sleep. “Timmy said he was going to meet us at the door to stairs his dad takes to the surface.” After a brief pause Damien jumped slightly. “It’s almost like we’re going to another planet!” Mark smiled weakly as he looked around, making sure no one could see them.
When they reached the door Timmy was there and as they waited for him to appear Damien paced and talked about the plan, going over everything to make sure he had it right and that Mark knew what his job was. Every few minutes he laughed nervously, drew his hands through his hair and equated the two them to some sort of explorer pair; he was always the leader who knew what he was doing and Mark was the stupid side kick who stared off into space and messed up his end of the deal only to have Damien fix everything and save the day. In some ways Mark thought this was true as he stared up into the night sky forgetting that he was supposed to be waiting for Timmy, Damien saw him first. “There he is!” Timmy quietly rounded a corner looking around and almost ran away when Damien pointed at him and yelled. “Where were you? We’ve been waiting for you. I was starting to get scared Mark’s uncle was going to start looking for us. If I can’t get over the Edge because you were late I still win the bet.” Timmy scoffed but had no real response other than ‘nuh uh.’
From his pocket Timmy pulled out a large silver key and placed it in the lock of the door. “Last chance to back out.” Mark said as Timmy opened the door to the staircase down. “We can still go home, I’m sure Timmy won’t do anything bad if you don’t go over the Edge. Will you Timmy?” Once again Timmy scoffed but paired it with a ‘yuh uh’ instead. Damien didn’t seem to hear the confirmation of a prank as he started descending the staircase; a rope Timmy had brought for him was swinging loosely from his shoulder and a second key hung from his wrist and swung with each step down. When Mark asked about it Timmy told him it was for the second door, the one that allowed the work crew get to the far side of the wall if they needed to.
The planet this close the Edge was steep, rocky, and incredibly unsteady unlike the steps which were all flat where there was land and deep where there was water. Mark refused to stand up straight and kept his weight on at least three hands and feet if he could help it. It was slow moving towards the tree that had somehow found its livelihood right on the Edge. Damien didn’t seem to have the same hesitations and was tying the rope around the tree when Mark finally sat down on a rock a few feet away, the other end was already tied around Mark’s waist. Mark suppressed the urge to turn around and return to house, staring out at the sky extending beyond the ground made his muscles feel like jelly and sweat. “Are you really sure this is a good idea? What if the tree falls?” Mark asked as Damien checked the two knots just in case. “I can’t lift you and the tree.” Mark looked at Damien and thought he could see a hesitation in his actions as though he were considering the offer to return home. Eventually Damien shook his head and instructed Mark to check the knots. He complied by crawling to the tree and re-tying the rope and then crawling to Damien to check that one. He was unhappy with how loose Damien had tied the rope and set to re-tying that one as well. In one quick jerk he tightened the make-shift safety rope as much as could and tied it with as good and intricate a knot he could think of. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Damien said, desperately trying to breathe as his organs readjusted around the pressing rope.
“My brother calls that a ‘famous last words’ quote.” Mark said under his breathe.
Since He only desired people to live on the top of the world there was no reason to create anything below. So a void of nothingness was allowed to remain where His followers couldn’t look.
Mark watched as Damien descended towards the goal of his bet and slowly gave Damien more slack, always ready to tighten his grip and brace his legs if Damien fell. There were rocks jutting out of the surface of the Edge and enough dents and depressions that Damien could easily find places to put his feet for support, still Mark worried ever eyeing the tree next to him. It looked like any other plant of its kind, tall wide and spreading apart the taller it got. A few roots could be seen breaking the ground’s surface before disappearing into the rubble of stone and debris as it looked for a water and food like his teacher told him they did. The leaves didn’t move because there wasn’t any breeze here to make them, they were so still that Mark thought they were all turned in the same direction: upwards towards the sky waiting for the sun to rise each morning just like the patrons at his uncle’s restaurant.
Mark felt a tug on the rope and tightened his grip so it wouldn’t move. Spreading his legs apart he waited, ready to hold Damien’s weight from falling off the planet forever with all the strength he could muster. A second tug soon followed and he let his grip loosen, allowing the rope to begin moving again; Mark was too sacred to look at Damien’s progress and instead did what he could by making constellations in the stars he couldn’t see from his house, the new ones that hid below the Edge.
Of the people who lived many wondered what marvels they could not see or understand. Most looked to the Heavens for answers examining the stars and finding meaning in what they saw. A few, however, looked to what they could not see with their eyes and the void below began to be filled.
“Hey, where is he?” Mark jumped at the sudden voice. Timmy was jumping from rock to rock heading towards Mark and the tree. “That rope connected to him?”
Mark turned back to his task and ignored Timmy’s question, the answer was obvious anyway. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be making sure no one notices us or closes the door or something?” Mark thought that maybe the adults had told him to come get them and that all three of them were in trouble. He turned around to see if he could see anyone else coming; he almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing and let go of the rope a little.
Timmy stepped forward and grabbed the rope from Mark in case he dropped it and laughed. “You have any idea what time it is? No one’s gonna miss you this late. ‘Sides, your uncle thinks you’re at Damien’s house, my dad thinks I’m at your house and Damien’s grandma thinks he’s at my house.” Timmy paused for a second. “Didn’t you know that? Damien said he told you.” Mark shrugged. Damien only told him what he needed to know; eventually it would have come up to make sure the lie worked. “I just came to check on him, see if I owed him that dollar. Besides, he has that key doesn’t he? I need it back if we’re to make sure no one knows we came out here.” Mark mentioned that it was still in the door, he had to have seen it on his way here. Timmy shrugged and started walking back without looking over the Edge. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said casually over his shoulder.
Mark wanted to follow, unsure of Timmy’s motives. Timmy was known for his pranks and Mark could see him locking one of the doors in order to make them wait until someone came so they would get the in trouble and he wouldn’t have to pay Damien a dollar. He’d have a laugh and they’d be without TV for the rest of their lives.
A sudden succession of tugs brought Mark’s attention back to the rope in his hands. He began pulling up whatever slack he could and braced for Damien to fall. He thought briefly about placing a foot against the tree but decided against it, he still didn’t feel it was very sturdy. Mark forced himself to hesitantly look over the Edge to see what Damien was doing when there was no more slack. The rope hadn’t moved, no more tugs or sudden jerks, it was as though Damien had simply stopped moving.
Mark caught a single glimpse of what was happening; Damien had gone limp and was in the arms of a second person. The newcomer was of a darker complexion than anything Mark had seen before and there wasn’t enough cloth on him to cover his upper body. Below the two of them, at the other Edge, Mark could see the silhouettes of more heads looking up at him. The sun sat in the air above them lazily preparing for its sunrise.
Immediately Mark stood and ran, not caring how rocky the ground was or that Timmy had indeed tried to lock them out of the town but hadn’t quite closed the door entirely. He ran straight for his bedroom and didn’t come out for two days, never once telling his parents what was wrong or why he wasn’t at Damien’s house or where Damien even was. He didn’t even confess anything at Damien’s funeral months later when the empty casket was lowered into the ground; instead he buried himself in whatever he could trying to forget what he saw or to somehow explain that they weren’t real.
Those that looked for answers where nothing was began to create truths in this nothingness. Those that traveled below claimed to see a brighter more beautiful heaven than that of the one above. They became so engrossed with the false heavens that they began to stay longer and longer always speaking the beautiful sky that shown brighter than the brightest day but darker than the darkest nights. They became so engrossed in this world that everyone that went eventually stayed and never returned.
“Hello, my name is Professor Mark Kotch. I go by Professor Kotch, Professor K, and, behind my back, Professor Crotch.” Mark wrote his names on the board for his newest students, a few of them laughed at his joke though everyone knew it was true. “I am this campus’ religion studies professor with a specific focus on the mythologies associated with the creation of our world. That is to say I, and this class, will focus on the mythologies about why our world is flat, what is on the other side of the world, where our God is now according to the mythologies, how our mythologies can be incorporated in today’s world, when and by who the mythologies were created…” A hand in the back of the room appeared above the heads of the students close to her before he could even finish his sentence. “Yes, you in the back, what can you possibly question at this point? I haven’t even finished the list of what we will be doing; you can’t possibly refute what hasn’t already happened.” The student stood up, ignoring the question, and stood in front of everyone’s eyes. Hesitantly her mouth began to move and form words. Mark heard a vague mumble but couldn’t understand what the words were. “I’m sorry? I can’t hear you, you have to speak up.”
The girl blushed and looked away, here eyes were covered by long bangs and Mark couldn’t see them. She looked the tiniest bit old to be in the class, but then again grandmothers had spent their last years earning an undergrad simply because they could. “S-sorry, but I wanted to know something about what is on the other side of the world.” The voice was incredibly breathy and Mark barely suppressed a grimace at its nasality; yet once she got over her embarrassment of all the eyes on her she held herself tall and spoke with an authority that rivaled Mark’s casualty. Every eye was on her and he blushed again but remained standing. “Is it true that you think people live on the other side of the world?”
To this Mark could only sit down and stare at the girl thinking of an answer, it was the exact thing he wanted someone to ask, only he wanted them to ask it farther in the term instead of on the first day. Grabbing the two stacks of papers on his desk he handed them to two students to pass around. “One of those papers is your syllabus; there isn’t much to say about it, if I change anything I’ll let you know beforehand if I can. The other is the oldest known myth. Your homework tonight to read this myth and come back with responses focusing on that lady’s question, you are dismissed for the day.”
A chaste woman lost her betrothed to the lower side and wanted to know what wickedness took him from her. She traveled over the Edge to see what God would have created to entice His people and split them from their intended. Instead of bright days and starry nights she found nothing. All the men and women who disappeared simply stared down at the blackness that God had left and saw the images they wanted. She wandered amongst the crowds of people trying to find her intended; when she did she could only weep at the deadened face turned down at the sky.
Principle Tim Grebe’s office was the only administrative office that no one could find. He liked it that way; he didn’t desire the lime light and only wanted the people specifically searching for him to know where he was. Mark knew this, and also knew where his old friend’s office was from the many trips to see him since he had been hired a few years ago. “A student has complained that you teach nothing but outdated false stories about the origin of our little planet.” Mark couldn’t suppress a smirk as he lifted up the left corner of his mouth, he let nothing else move. Principle Grebe leaned back in his chair and let the tension in his body fall, Mark knew that confirming the complaint wasn’t what the other man wanted. Before speaking again Grebe’s composed his face so Mark couldn’t discern depression from anger or any other emotion. Mark was aware of the ploy and waited for the other man to speak, the smirk worked itself up his cheek until his muscles were straining at the effort. “Why do you always smirk when I bring you here? Am I never anything but serious?”
Mark shook his head at the principle. “Yes, you and I both know that you are always serious. You and I also both know that I am tenured. Even if you wanted to, as long as I didn’t do anything illegal, you can’t fire me.” Mark paused for the briefest of seconds before deciding that he did, in fact, want to keep talking. “I also believe that you don’t want to fire me.” Principle Grebe’s face remained straight; there was only a slight hint at real agitation this time, no red reached the man’s face in acknowledgment of the truth but a tiny vein started to pop out of his neck. Something had changed, either he didn’t want Mark at the school, had a way to get rid of him, or some combination of both. “Look, you and I both know where my interests lie, you knew that the moment my name came up as a possible hire, like I’ve told you before: myths are simply the rationalization of something that we as humans don’t understand. It doesn’t mean they are true…”
“But you believe they are.” Dr. Grebe interrupted. “Ever since that unfortunate incident when Damien fell off the planet you have been convinced that he did not, in fact, die.”
Mark could only sit back, wondering what part of this conversation was different. What did he know that Mark didn’t? His apprehensions of what Principle Grebe could be holding over him made him want to explain his actions that night, re-live the fear and panic of seeing people that lived and survived on the opposite side of the world. He wanted to yell and scream at the man like he had done for years, but it had gotten him no where and there was no reason that was going to change now. No one believed him anymore now than they had when he finally broke down and told his parents what happened. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw.”
Dr. Grebe chuckled at the argument Mark was trying to start. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to give you an opportunity. You have asked us for years for the permission to venture to the other side, always saying that ‘if you could just prove it’ or ‘Damien might still be alive, we could still save him.’ If you say people down live there you should be fine and be able to come back and tell us everything of your discoveries.” Mark didn’t pay attention to the coy, insulting, temper of his bosses’ voice; the shock and excitement that filled him made him forget his childhood friend was no more on his side than he had ever been.
The woman attempted to reunite with her betrothed by gaining his attention but he simply stared into the black nothingness of a sky. “Why do you stare into the sky below! There is no day or night to distinguish. Please, return home and let us wed under the joyous eyes of our God who created everything above.” No one heard her pleas at first, but as she grew more frantic and hysteric in her wish to return home she began to sob and pray. “Dear Maker of all things please show these people the illusion they have made for themselves.”
All the preparations were set; Mark had everything he needed in order to live on the under side for a week of observations and experiments and whatever the chemists or physicists or biologists wanted to pile on, simply because they were to scared to come themselves. A few initial safety precautions were made so that, if gravity did indeed keep pulling him down as everyone thought, he wouldn’t die immediately and people topside could pull him to safety. Otherwise everything else was up to him; weeks and months of wilderness training and first aid were crammed into his skull so he could survive and return home healthy and active. That is, if he was even able to return at all.
Most of the tasks Mark wanted to do wouldn’t happen until he had gotten to the underside; the technical and preparatory work had been given to a team lead by a man named Kyle. The man wandered around calmly giving orders to some of his former construction-turned safety crew while others received only sharp clean remarks in what might have been his loudest voice; it cut through the air and even the tree seemed to shudder from fear of it. Through the bouts of anger and frustration Mark couldn’t hate him; he was doing his job and loved it. His rural, fourth step, accent made it all almost comical and his advanced age made it wonderful to watch. There was only one person that he never seemed to need to instruct: Miss Hannah, as she was called, always seemed to know what job she needed to do before Kyle did. She never spoke and her pale face was always behind a book or staring at something too important to give any notice to Mark. He never quite figured out why she wasn’t in charge, he never quite asked either.
It had been a few days since his last training class had ended, which meant a large portion of his time was spent watching the safety crew secure lines, acquire materials for him, or get yelled at by Kyle. He could also wander his old town and see how it had changed since he had left.
What he saw didn’t shock him too much. Most of the shops and restaurants and hotels had been closed in the years since he left. Shortly after Damien’s death fewer and fewer people wanted to look up to the stars or watch the sun-rise when someone had died falling off the Edge. The town had become a ghost town; the wall was beginning to show its age and wear and the only people that still felt it necessary to remain did so because they couldn’t go anywhere else, not because they didn’t want to.
Mark was pleased to find the tree he had originally tied Damien’s rope too was still standing against the universe. He still wondered why it seemed to be reaching for the sky when every other tree of it kind seemed to just sit where they had been planted. “Hey, professor.” A gruff voice interrupted his thoughts and Mark turned to find Kyle walking slowly up to him, taking one unsteady step at a time. “You sure you don’t want no one to go over with you? It seems mighty stupid to go on over alone. Even if you find it livable down there that buddy system is still a mighty good thing.”
Mark had been scared for the briefest of seconds Kyle had come to yell at him for just standing around staring at trees or that the entire plan had been called off in the last few minutes. “I don’t believe I ever argued with that. No one ever volunteered and I certainly can’t pass this opportunity up simply because everyone else is scared of what I might find.” Mark started to lean against the aged safety wall but decided against it and cleared his throat trying to decide what to do. Eventually he sat on a rock and looked up at Kyle’s face, never once actually seeing it as the stars twinkled down at them. “I always thought the night sky was better than the daytime. The sun’s way too bright this close.” Kyle nodded without any expression on his face, Mark wasn’t sure what he was thinking but didn’t really care; nothing was going to convince him it wasn’t a good idea to go over. “I’m going over tomorrow night right?”
Kyle nodded. “That way you can be sure the sun ain’t gonna burn you to a crisp when you’re on the other side; in case it’s closer to that side ‘r somethin’.” Kyle looked up the wall’s height and stared at the something Mark couldn’t quite see. “If no one else is comin’ with you I’ll volunteer me time. T’aint got nothin’ better to do.”
Mark smiled at the old man. “Sure, I’d love to have you come along, though I’m in charge when we get over there.” Kyle agreed to this and immediately went to his superiors to work out the details. Mark was sure Kyle could handle himself if the situation got bad, maybe the trip would have to be shortened because the supplies, originally meant for one, would have to be shared between two people, but that was fine. Better to have a buddy than go it alone, so everyone said.
When He heard her plea He came from His resting place and saw that some people had discovered a land below. The land He had not intended them to inhabit. He looked through their eyes to see what kept them there rather than in the paradise He had created.
Through each man’s eyes He discovered the corruptive desires they saw and began to weep at what He saw. He wept great tears of sorrow that fell into the sky and slowly created many more stars that had not been in existence before.
The stars shone brightly and honestly through the people’s illusions and the people became confused and angry at the interruptions of their paradise. They searched for the interrupter and upon seeing Daw they placed blame on her immediately; even Amir scorned and yelled at her for destroying their paradise.
It was only when everything was ready and all the cranes were in place that Mark really truly believed he was going over the Edge like Tim had told him he would. There had always been an apprehension that this whole setup was just a cruel trick his department was playing on him simply so they could laugh in his face when he came back to work with a bruised ego and deflated ambitions.
Kyle was all ready and giving his last instructions to the crew as the sun disappeared behind the planet’s crest on its way to the opposite Edge. “It’s ‘bout that time Mister Mark. Miss Hannah there will help ya into your harness. Everything else is set.” A mousy woman with straight brown hair that couldn’t have had the strength to carry a bag full of books helped Mark pull on a harness that was designed to prevent anything from moving. When Hannah walked away Mark couldn’t quite figure out how she had gotten the straps so tight so he could hardly breath, even his arms and legs were a little constricted by the tight harness. “You’ll be goin’ first, then the supplies, and I’ll be following. You still remember how to get them to pull you back if you need it?”
Mark nodded absently as he stared at the darkening sky. He imagined he could see a line of darkness pass over the sky allowing the stars to appear as the sun went further over the West Edge. “Yeah, tug on my safety rope twice, they’ll pull me up. Tug once and they’ll stop, tug again after counting to ten and they’ll start letting me down again.” He said just loud enough for Kyle to hear and be satisfied. Hannah came back and escorted Mark through the temporary wall.
As they stood with their backs to the city staring at the place where rock meets sky Mark imagined what it would be like to run forward and leap. Hannah turned to him and began readjusting his harness once more to ensure it was a tight as it could be. When she finished she stepped forward, between Mark and the Edge, and held up and ear piece for him to take. With hesitation Mark grabbed it and placed it in his ear. He waited for someone to say something but all he heard was silence. Hannah stepped back through the temporary wall’s door and disappeared.
As he waited for Kyle to appear so they could start Mark sat down and stared at the only place on in the planet only a handful of people had stepped foot. It seemed silly to be scared of a place like this; it was so calm and unassuming. Like so many years ago the air was still and the rocks were strewn about in chunks. “Quiet, desolate, and ready to kill if someone takes a wrong step,” Mark mumbled to himself. He could see the rope Damien had used to climb over the Edge was still there, being absorbed by the tree, its bark gently overlapping the thick strands of Manila hemp that he had forgotten when he ran away, and which no one else had the desire to even think about. With a quick, fluid motion, he stood up and approached the rope to examine it, but the cable attached to his harness hadn’t given him enough slack yet and he came up just short of reaching his quarry. “Slack!” He yelled to whoever cared.
Kyle walked up and placed his palm on Mark’s shoulder. “I’m sorry buddy, but we have somthin’ else we gotta be payin’ attention to. We aint got time to be reminiscin’ ‘bout past mistakes simply to forget about what we’re tasked with now.” Mark nodded and allowed the old man to direct him back to the temporary wall. They were going to head over ten feet from the tree. “That’s where new mistakes happen.” Mark briefly thought of walking to the tree instead of climbing over the first chance he got.
Daw ran. She ran as fast as she could. It was not fast enough. The mob of anger and resentment followed too closely and too quickly for her to escape. As she approached the Edge she knew that she would not have the time to climb back home. God also knew. He saw the distress of Amil’s betrothed and became enraged. He thought of what He could do to protect the maiden who He had endangered. He watched her run towards the Edge. She was prepared to jump. She was prepared to put her life into His hands because that was all she could do. He knew she wouldn’t live if she flew; either space would envelope her or the ground would take her. So He caught her. As her foot touched the Edge of the world he wrapped her in His hands. The mob saw this and ran in fear and pain, scattering across the underworld. When God was satisfied they were of no threat to Daw, He removed His hands and let her free. She didn’t move, as a testament to God and fear of man, in His embrace Daw was changed. In her place stood a tree to remind those of the world under of God’s power.
It was with the briefest hesitation that Mark abandoned his idea to approach the tree. He could see Hannah’s eyes in the closest crane staring at him. They’re big brown circles boreing into his thoughts and ambitions. He shivered under her gaze and for the first time feared what she was capable of if something didn’t go her way. Mark understood why Kyle never had to yell at her now.
Starting the decent wasn’t hard at all. All Mark and Kyle had to do was keep their feet between them and the rock wall of the planet, every few minutes one would look at the bag of supplies swollen with the extra supplies stuffed into it for Kyle. As they descended Mark watched the brown color of the top soil dissolve into a white powder that crumpled to dust when his feet hit the surface. “How ya doin’?” Kyle asked when his feet first hit the powder. A small pile of what looked like dandruff was collecting on his shoulders and he kept his mouth closed to try and prevent too much of the fine dust to enter his lungs. He stuck his thumb in the air and thrust his fist up at Kyle.
‘There are not thumbs signs for scared,’ Mark thought. Everything he understood and knew of the world had been thrown upside down when Damien was stolen by the shadows. He had spent his entire life trying to understand what he saw and where they had come from. Now was the time he got to test all of his hypotheses. He drew his thumb sideways across the next layer of rock; its color was that of an egg yoke.
Mark knew that his classes on geology in grade school told him that the many layers of rock and clay found on the steps were from the layering and aging of the planet. They never could explain why the steps existed or why there were even layers instead the teachers always changed the subject by giving the clay from the lowest step to play with. Damien always had created towers with the intention of breaking them down. Mark built the duplicate towers but never wanted to knock his down when it was time to put the clay back at the end of the day. Damien would knock both their towers down and Mark would cry. ‘If all the steps were made up of layers, how come the Edge is also layered?’ Mark thought on this for a bit but the explanations and rationalizations those justifications spiraled out of control and made him turn back to the chocolate layer that was now in front of him.
In an attempt to prevent the thought of the layers in front of him Mark remembered his relationship with Damien before that day. They were inseparable buddies who spent their time playing games Damien chose and Mark never liked. Timmy moved to the city when they were six and Damien immediately liked him asking him to join their games of cops and robber. Damien and Timmy always played the good cop/bad cop pair who went to apprehend the evil robber stealing everyone’s money. Being the robber never bother Mark, even before Timmy moved in that’s the role he played. It was the fact that it was two against one and Timmy, the bad cop, never seemed to care if he got Mark into any real trouble. Mark realized he never really forgave Damien for allowing it to happen.
The surface of the Edge changed from pale purple to grey to a painful pastel green back to the powdery white from closer to the surface and Mark stared at it lot really seeing nor caring. His interest was one the other side among the shadowed heads and, hopefully, a grown up Damien ready to reminisce and remember the days before he ‘died.’ Mark had read too many stories and seen too many TV shows to really believe that was going to happen. In truth he hoped the worst Damien would do is demand a dollar, give him a titie twister and a black eye, and then demand to return home. Even that seemed a little light.
There was no indication of when they would get halfway. No plant lived on the Edge of the world. The various layers Mark stared at absentmindedly as he thought about his reunion with his childhood friend weren’t uniform enough to gauge their progress by. Mark was too preoccupied thinking of the eventual hugs and tears and profuse apologies regarding everything wrong they had done to each other within the first eight years, including that fateful day. So it was a complete surprise when Mark stopped. Damien was beginning to introduce Mark to the shadowy heads of the people who stole him when his slacked legs got pulled to the ground. He didn’t have enough time to react before he was laying face down on the dirt and rock that he seemed smooth yet spongy under his face, the rust color mixing with rocks and dust from the above layers that had fallen during the centuries. “What on the world…?” He muttered as he spit dirt out of his mouth. The cable, which was still being giving slack, was lying on the ground awkwardly as it tried to coil at his feet but couldn’t quite bend enough to do so. “Kyle, get ready to stand,” He yelled to the other man. Mark tugged his cable once before anymore slack could hit him across the shins as it bounced mindlessly, fighting against gravity and its own freedom.
Kyle gazed downward he descended closer to Mark. “What’s happenin’ mister Mark?” As he reached the middle point he fell into the dirt and splayed around while he tried to stand back up all the while sending dust into the air. Mark quickly felt all his pores fill with grime and sneezed from the small particles that made it past his fanning hand into his nose. “Ah,” Kyle said as though he understood what was happening completely but didn’t really and tugged once on his cable and that of the supply bag’s. “Well, we aint over yet. Why’d we stop?”
“I think we’re halfway. The gravity is pulling us in.” Kyle looked at Mark, his mouth was slightly open and his eyes stared without really seeing as he tried to figure out what Mark just said. “That downward pull you feel up top? Well, the other side has to feel it too. This is the middle point, where neither down nor up has more pull, so we get pulled in instead.” All of Mark classes and training time learning to talk and explain new information to students didn’t exist at that moment while he attempted to clarify the simple facts of life to an elderly gentleman who should have, by all rights, known them already.
Kyle’s face never quite showed understanding of Mark’s explanation, but he shrugged anyway and looked at the layers of rock and sediment from where they had come and where they needed to go. “I don’t really care ‘bout all that. All I care ‘bout is that this means we got to climb the rest of the way.” He reached into the supplies bag and pulled out some climbing gear we had been given: Mark could see a hammer, some lockable and non-lockable carabineers, as well as some bolts. “You first, you remember how to keep us safe?” He handed Mark the bolts and hammer.
As he secured the cable to the rock wall by hammering in a bolt, Mark pulled on the anchor to ensure it wasn’t going to move if pressure was applied in case he fell and jerked his safety line. He climbed the Edge scanning for handholds and footholds allowing his excess slack to run out before turning back to Kyle. “What are we going do about the bag? Neither of us can pull it up alone.”
Kyle handed Mark the cable connected to the bag. “We can pull it up when we get there. No use worryin’ about it now, not like somethin’s gonna come by and eat it.” Mark briefly thought about it and decided Kyle was more right than any suggestions he could come up with. After he tugged on the chord once more he climbed as fast as he could to ensure the slack given to him didn’t grow too large; very few feet he placed another bolt into the rock and made sure it was set. The cable was a little too stiff and limiting for this sort of climbing but the layers of rock and harder substances allowed for an easy enough climb that Mark thought it all balanced out well.
While Kyle waited for Mark to gain a decent lead on him he stared out into the night sky craning his neck to look at as many stars as he could; he too pulled on his chord to begin his slack. It was as dark as it ever could be; the sun was still setting on their side of the world and had yet rise on the other. “My wife always hated livin’ with the city folk. ‘Twas the only place I could get a job with my talents, the rise before the sun simply to fall asleep well after it’d gone to bed itself never felt good on my bones. I had to go work in the factories and construction yards in the city where the lights challenged the brilliant light of sun even in the night. We could never see the stars.” Mark saw him tug the chord again but couldn’t say anything before the little slack Kyle did have began disappearing over the now far Edge. “God, if she could see this now.”
“Kyle, I think you told them you’re in trouble.” Mark spoke hesitantly, scared of bringing Kyle back from his memories of life past. Even as he did so Kyle began rising up into the air back from where they had come, his feet dragging along the middle layer of earth.
“Dag Nabbit!” He began tugging on his rope to try and get them to stop, but that only made them pull him up even faster. “I’ll come back when I get everything all sorted out. You might as well keep goin’. Leave the bag. Like I said: ‘nuthin’s gonna eat right?” He gave a jovial wink and Mark turned around to do as he instructed, climbing a few feet and placing a bolt wondering why no one thought to bring him back as well. He eventually decided he didn’t really care, Kyle wasn’t part of the deal for most of the planning and he didn’t have to be part of the deal now. As long as he made it to his destination he was content.
We God saw the sacrifice Daw had made he thought about how prevent this from happening again. He thought about all the people who now lived on the under side of the world and decide something. He decided to stay. He decided to stay and watch the people and try and understand what they would become without his direct guidance. So He took the form of a human and lived on the underside of the world and watched and waited.
***
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