Page 79 of Nocte

“Truck,” Caspian says bitterly and reluctantly. “Do not stand in front of them. Not again. You’ll be killed.”

Again.It must have been a truck that I encountered, with glowing, yellow eyes that blazed through the dark.

“I won’t,” I say. I promise him. He won’t have to rescue me again. Pay for me again. I’m the reason for the package hidden in my newly purchased bag. The reason why he hisses beneath his hood, his head bowed low.

But then I spy something that distracts from my guilt for a moment. “Oh! What is that?”

He looks up. Hisses. “School bus.” A yellow truck, brighter than the sun.

“And that?” My eyes have darted to something else. Another marvel.

“A dog,” he says. A beautiful creature tethered to its owner by a colorful bit of red string. I know of dogs and wolves and animalistic creatures. I’ve read about them.

Never have I seen one.

Nor a “cat” that darts across the street next, as if to flaunt its newness before me.

“Oh,” I utter again and again as Caspian dutifully and angrily explains the world to me.

Cars. Honking horns. Street lights. Stop lights. So many different lights.

Like the mortals and their clothing. Bright. Dark. Colorful. Vibrant. Muted. They cram so much color into these small places in between their enormous buildings. I will never learn enough. Discover enough. One day will never be enough.

Then we pass a “park.” A place with lush, green, wide open spaces, and I get greedy. I grip the hand in my grasp tighter. I lick my lips and ask, “Can we see it up close? Please?”

He stiffens. Grunts. Groans. Drags me forward across the busy street to the park I long to see. We step beyond a gap in two curling metal gates. A stone path unfurls to a world of wild imagery beyond.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” That sound becomes the only noise I can make. The only word I can speak.

And one that Caspian translates with persistent irritation.

Oh!

“Garden,” he explains, referring to a wealth of beautiful flowers.

Oh!

“Pond.”

Oh! Oh! Oh!

“Tram. Frisbee. Food stall.”

A few minutes in this corner of the mortal realm, and I am exhausted already. Satisfied already. So very pleased already.

There is still more to see. The realization dawns on me as we turn down another bustling street. Then another. Another. Amid a sea of new sights is one I recognize instantly.

A building perched atop a series of marble steps. Marble columns frame the entrance. It is a museum.

Themuseum.

Caspian tugs on my arm as I stare and stare. Angrily, he snaps, “What is it?”

Then he looks over and sees. Scoffs. “Been here before. Nothing special.”

He’s been here before, and it is nothing special.

When it is everything.