The Fountain Pen

This morning I decided chapter 2 was done, but when I wrote the next 1,000 words I realized that was the actual close of chapter 2. Part of what helped me make that decision has been dividing my manuscript up by scenes; I’ve never done this before but thus far it’s been giving me a structure I can work with. For now I’m defining a scene by it’s location, so if the action moves to a different place in Salem it’s a new scene. So far it’s keeping me pushing on the plot, although I will admit I am embellishing here and there just to add word count. I’ll be surprised if I cut less than 10,000 words when I begin revising this.

Chapter 3 brings us finally into the fantastical side of Salem. I finally broke new ground and set us in a location that does not exist. I’ll admit some part of me has had Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere in the back of my head the entire time I’ve been writing this.

Since I would hate reading this story in the blog form I’m posting it in I’m going to continue posting completed chapters. So if you want the PDF or the ePub versions, there you go. And now we continue our story in progress.

Joe wandered upstairs and located the Greek restaurant without much difficulty, navigating the stairs and corridors with a sense of purpose this time. Hurrying past and through the restaurant Joe did not immediately spy Mortimer which filled him with anxiety. Opting to do a second more methodical search of the odd eating space he at last found Mortimer tucked away out of sight, quietly enjoying an apéritif, as if all were right in the world. As Joe approached the table he marveled at the sense of calm that permeated the area around Mortimer; he couldn’t help but feel reassured and soothed. Joe found it curious to notice that Mortimer showed no sign of surprise to be seeing Joe again.

“Take a seat Joe,” Mortimer offered by way of greeting.

Joe pulled up a chair and sat down. To his astonishment there was an apéritif waiting there for him. Joe looked at it then up to Mortimer with a questioning eyebrow. Mortimer only stared back at Joe, clearly waiting for Joe to start talking. “Were you expecting me?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joe said losing patience.

“Let’s just say I knew I would be having lunch with someone today, and I’m not at all surprised it would be with you.”

Joe’s face flushed with anger. “First you tell me I should get out of town and now you tell me you aren’t surprised that I’m still here? What’s going on?” Joe practically shouted.

Mortimer leaned forward and gestured reassuringly to Joe. “I’ll answer all your questions Joe, and then some, but first you should calm down and relax a little. You are in no condition to process the information I have to give you. Have a drink, it’s Ouzo, your favorite.”

Joe looked hard at Mortimer, “How did you —”

“I know a great many things, let’s leave it at that for now. Drink up. The food’s about to arrive.”

No sooner had Joe set down his empty glass than the waitress arrived with two gyros. Joe looked up at Mortimer with suspicion. “Yes, I knew you were quite fond of gyros too. Eat. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Joe cautiously inspected his food, then deciding it looked harmless enough, and finally succumbing to the grumblings in his stomach he ate with reckless abandon. “This is quite good,” he remarked halfway through a bite. “It’s been some time since I’ve had a gyro quite like this.”

“Perhaps next time, if indeed there is a next time, you should try the moussaka. I’m sure you’d enjoy that as well.”

Finished with their meal Mortimer leaned back in his chair and sized Joe up. Feeling uncomfortable Joe crossed his arms and shifted his weight in his chair. Joe was working up the courage to launch into his tirade, now dampened by a good, and free, meal, when Mortimer began speaking. “When I told you that you should leave and return home I said that out of hope,” Mortimer paused, “hope that I was wrong about my assessment of your situation.” Mortimer took a deep breath. “I feared all along that whatever power brought you here would also keep you here, though I had no proof. Had you been able to get back home then this would have been, like you assumed, nothing more than an ill-humored prank. However, seeing as how you are still here, despite what I gather were some rather desperate attempts to leave, we must assume this is intentional.”

Fear played on Joe’s features. The thought that someone was purposefully targeting him for a forced relocation to a city he’d never been to, and then keeping him prisoner in the same city, did not sit well with him. “How can you be sure?” Joe asked, the fear causing him to momentarily forget about his incident on the bridge.

“Tell me about what happened when you tried to leave. Did you try to catch a bus?”

“I did, but I couldn’t get a ticket out of town. All the Portland busses were full up, and when I found one heading to Boise it broke down and they re-routed the rescue buss away from Salem.”

Mortimer stroked his chin, “Hrm. Go on. What did you try next?”

“I went to go rent a car, but my cards declined. I had just used one at the bus depot without issue and then suddenly they won’t work.”

“Call your bank.” It wasn’t a question. Mortimer was giving Joe orders.

“When I tried calling I —”

“Call now. We’ll get to what happened when you called earlier. Quickly. Call.” The urgency in Mortimer’s voice caused Joe to fumble with his phone; he nearly dropped it on the phone. When he got through the phone directory maze and asked about his cards and why they declined the operator informed him that she had no such records of declined transactions, and that there were currently no problems with any of his cards. Confused Joe thanked the operator and hang up.

“I don’t get it,” Joe said. “She told me there were no declined transactions on my card. She found the one at the bus depot but nothing after that.”

“And you are sure he ran your cards.”

“Positive. I watched him do it. He swiped them a couple of times each.”

“So we know your cards are good according to your bank. We’ll check them out later. What happened after that?”

“After that I was on the bridge calling my bank when, don’t laugh, I ran into an invisible wall.” Mortimer didn’t show any reaction. “I felt along it over the railing and into traffic. I about got myself ran over. But even though I could feel a solid wall cars drove right through it like it wasn’t even there.” Mortimer’s lack of a response had Joe nervous. “You’ve got to believe me.”

“I believe you Joe. Unfortunately you have confirmed my worst fears.” Joe’s face fell as Mortimer said this. “Someone does not want you leaving Salem.”

Chapter Three

“So what do we do now?” Joe asked. “I mean what kind of a person could even do something like this?”

“That’s the question we have to answer: ‘Who is behind this?’ I think I have just the person who can help us.” Joe leaned forward in anticipation of getting up and going somewhere, but stopped when Mortimer didn’t so much as blink. “Joe, I am about to show you something few have seen. You must swear, on your very life, that you will tell no one about what you will see. Do you understand me?”

Joe sat back suddenly afraid. In his line of work he’d had to sign nondisclosure agreements before, but the seriousness with which Mortimer said, “on your very life” chilled Joe. He feared Joe meant it. “I, uh, guess.”

“I mean it Joe. You must not reveal this secret to anyone. To do so would break trust with people who value trust above all else.”

“Do I have any other choice?”

“I’m afraid not, Joe. The person I need to take you too will not come to you, so we must go to her.” Mortimer paused and stared straight into Joe’s eyes, making him feel as if Mortimer were peering into his soul. “This is a test of character. She will help if you are found to be worthy, but make no mistake,” Mortimer reached out and grasped Joe by the wrist. “In many cases the people whose trust you will be required to keep are more dangerous than the one who is keeping you here. Think about it Joe.”

Frustrated, and more than a little frightened, Joe snapped, “What other choice do I have?”

“For starters you could choose to stay here of your own free will.”

“What would that gain me?’

“Me for one.”

“What? I thought you said you were already on my side.”

“I am, but not in the same way I would be if you decided to reside in Salem. I am the Guardian of Salem, Joe. I protect all those who choose to live here. That choice grants me certain … abilities to act on your behalf. There are not many who have the power to oppose me in my city, nor in defense of one mine. As long as you call Springfield your home I am limited with what I can do.”

“I can’t do it Mortimer. I have a life somewhere else. I have a business, friends, even some family back in Springfield. I can’t stay.”

“Then you have no other choice if you want to leave. Will you swear to keep secret what I am about to show you?” Mortimer gave Joe a solemn faced stare.

Swallowing Joe nodded in agreement.

“You must say it Joe. We need a verbal contract.”

“I swear.”

Mortimer, satisfied with Joe’s vow, stood up from the table. “Come with me,” was all he said, as he strode out of the restaurant, not even throwing a glance behind him.

Joe hurried to follow Mortimer, briefly wondering if they were skipping out on the check, but as the wait staff waved after Mortimer he assumed there was a prior arrangement. Mortimer walked down the stairs, and quickly ducked around a corner past a vacant room. Joe hoped he was not being taken to meet some mafia godfather of Salem, who kept himself under a Greek restaurant. When Mortimer came to a halt in front of a blank wall Joe looked around confused. “Stay close behind me,” was all Mortimer said to Joe. He then placed his hand on the wall, and to Joe’s amazement that section of wall shifted back like it was door. Mortimer stepped through with Joe at his heels, the wall quietly, but swiftly, swinging back into place behind Joe.

Joe stood stock still, his jaw hung wide, mouth agape at the vista standing before him. Rather than the secret office he expected he found himself on a platform overlooking a vibrant and bustling city. An expanse far bigger than the building he just came from spread out before him. Below he saw brick paved streets, with lit lamps, three story buildings stacked side-by-side, some of them matching the architecture of the buildings Joe had been walking among all day. There were people milling about, going in and out of storefronts, opening windows on second and third story apartments, and in the distance Joe could just make out a modest school house and playground.

“Welcome to the Salem under Salem, or as some of us call it ‘Second City,’” boomed Mortimer.

“This … this is amazing,” Joe said with awe and wonder in his voice. “All this is under the streets of Salem?”

“All of it.”

“And no one knows about it?” Joe asked incredulous.

Mortimer chuckled. “Quite a few know about it, kid. All of us who live here know about it for starters, plus there are a number of rumors that float around from time-to-time.” He got serious and looked at Joe, “But few outsiders have ever seen it. We keep our existence as secret as we can, and our location even more so.”

“So what’s to stop someone from leaning against that wall back there and end up here?”

Mortimer grinned. “It’s not as easy as that. No one person can use the same door twice, and the doors change hourly. Plus, there are guards at the door.”

Joe looked around. “I don’t see anyone.”

Mortimer flashed Joe a wicked grin. “That’s the point kid. If you see them it’s too late.”

Joe swallowed the lump in his throat, understanding the threat. “What have I got myself into?” he thought to himself.

Mortimer reassuringly slapped Joe on the back. “Don’t worry kid, we’ll get you out of this alive.”

“Thanks,” Joe muttered back.

“Follow me. The person you need to meet lives in the heart of the town. We’d best hurry, time is of the essence.”