Far Side of the Universe Read online

  Far Side of the Universe

  melanie de coster

  Translated by Louise Lochner

  “Far Side of the Universe”

  Written By melanie de coster

  Copyright © 2017 melanie de coster

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Louise Lochner

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Chapter 1 The Exceptional Ones

  Chapter 2 The Misfits or a Certain Good Fortune

  Chapter 3 The Colonel Goes Bowling

  Chapter 4 Power of the Imagination

  Chapter 5 Far Side of Lalea

  Chapter 6 A Man Appears Dressed In White

  Chapter 7 Geniuses at Dinner

  Chapter 8 It’s Best to Take Every Precaution When Traveling So Far Away

  Chapter 9 Beneath the Suns

  Chapter 10 The Intruder

  Chapter 11 Farm in the West

  Part Two

  Chapter 12 Who Has the Most Reasons for Leaving?

  Chapter 13 Sometimes What We Imagine Isn’t Worse Than Reality

  Chapter 14 Head Held High

  Chapter 15 The Most Logical Proof Isn’t Always the Best

  Part Three

  Chapter 16 Sometimes it’s Worth Taking a Day Off

  Chapter 17 Ebony Fortress

  Chapter 18 It Isn’t Always Easy Being a Hero

  Chapter 19 Back Home in the Town That Had Avoided Them

  Chapter 20 Evil Side of the Hall

  Chapter 21 In the Classroom

  Chapter 22 From One Room to the Next

  Chapter 23 A Man So Sure Of His Opinions

  Chapter 24 Still No Door

  Chapter 25 A Friendly Visit

  Chapter 26 Some Explaining to Do

  Chapter 27 When Science Is Useless

  Chapter 28 Nothing Out of the Ordinary

  Chapter 29 No Story Is Ever Truly Finished

  PART ONE

  CHAPTER 1 THE EXCEPTIONAL ONES

  I have to write it all down. Just in case someone else discovers the portal. There were six in all, six adventure-starved souls. Five came back, different from before, and one stayed behind. It’s been a long time now since...

  Albin hurried into class, late as usual. The others didn’t even glance up at him. Head hanging low, he looked down at them. Each going about their business: Titiana, hidden in a corner of the room, fixated on a square of floor tile at her feet. Arthur, laughing nervously as he looked out the window, and Sarah, spinning faster and faster around Cosmo who had his eyes closed and was more than likely reciting something he’d read in an encyclopedia the night before.

  To him they looked like dust collectors, waiting there like always and forever. He yelled at them in a mocking tone, “Hey you bunch of maggots, what’s up?”

  Sarah shot back at him, “And you’re just as obnoxious as ever. Can’t you ever be on time?”

  “Apparently I’m not the only one.”

  “True. He hasn’t arrived yet.”

  She quickly glanced behind Albin to check the hallway before adding, “What do you think he’ll be like?”

  “Ha! Just like all the others. What do you expect? First, he’ll be too scared to look at us, barely even face us. Then, when he thinks our eyes are elsewhere, he’ll take a good, hard look at us. Another one of those teachers without enough hours in his schedule, and who won’t know what he’s supposed to do.”

  Arthur rushed over to jump into the conversation, bumping into Cosmo who was in his usual spot in the center of the room.

  “What are you two talking about?”

  “The substitute,” they replied in unison.

  “I’m sure he’ll be really nice.”

  Sarah stifled a laugh.

  “You always think everybody’s going to be nice.”

  “So?”

  Humming a tune, she rolled her eyes and went back to circling Cosmo.

  While Arthur was in the hallway on the lookout for their new teacher, Albin sidled over to Titiana. He positioned himself squarely in front of her, smack on top of the tile she’d found so fascinating. Without moving back an inch, she managed to blend into the wall. She didn’t turn her head away or even look up. Nothing in her posture would have changed if he hadn’t been there. Or maybe she would have spread herself farther out into space. Disappointed by the lack of response, he rejoined Sarah just as Arthur flew in stammering and pushing up his glasses that were barely held together by a slack rubber band.

  “The sub, he’s here! He’s tall. Really tall.”

  The man who entered was over six and a half feet tall. He ducked, most likely out of habit, as he crossed the threshold. Silently he studied the students to whom he would be teaching history. At the same time, each one of them scrutinized him, including Titiana who had timidly looked up. Finally he spoke.

  “Hello. I’m Mr. Merlin, your new teacher.”

  That one simple sentence was spoken in a voice that expressed a depth and knowledge beyond what he had learned at the university. Sarah responded by introducing the others to him. She had always been the best at speaking in public and had become the spokesperson for the class.

  “I’m Sarah, seventeen years old plus a few days. I’m the one in charge here. They wouldn’t be able to do anything if I weren’t here to help. By the door, that’s Arthur. Better to step aside when he’s heading your way because he still hasn’t learned how to not topple people over when he’s on the move. In the middle, the one who’s giving me an annoyed look is Cosmo. He’s the youngest, but watch out. He’s the smarty pants of the class. He’ll stop you mid-sentence if he thinks you’ve made a mistake. It’s thanks to him that you’re here today. He sent a letter to the office to get rid of the previous teacher who was incompetent, in his opinion. Just so you’re forewarned. Over there in the corner, that’s our shy one, Titiana. She’d rather be ignored, so try not to be too harsh with her. And finally, the showoff in the leather jacket, that’s Albin. Don’t pay any attention to him—he knows nothing about nothing but tries to play the bad guy. He’s also the oldest, but in his case, that doesn’t do him a whole lot of good.”

  Normally, Albin would have snapped back at her, but he was too busy gauging everyone’s reaction to the new teacher, in fact, that’s what they were all doing. In the one and half years since their arrival at the school, this was the first teacher who hadn’t seemed afraid of them. A sense of fear emanated from everyone they met— fear of the unknown, of what was different. Something that could certainly describe all five of them.

  Mr. Merlin took a long look at each one of them, and then told them he had decided to spend the first class period getting to know them. He talked about himself and listened to what they had to say. He was interested in them, but his curiosity didn’t seem creepy. It was the first time that anyone in the school had truly talked with them as if they were completely normal human beings.

  There was something out of the ordinary about this teacher. It was probably due to his outward appearance. He was wearing an old raincoat with folds incrusted with dust that looked like it had been there for ages. His leather hat resting on the corner of the desk seemed like it had seen more than a few torrential storms. Clothes, weathered by time and with a warm patina of a well-loved person, clothes that suited him perfectly.

  Yet it was more than just his clothing. He had a gaze that didn’t stray, that showed more depth and curiosity than most people would have felt comfortable expressing with their eyes. And also his smile, rare and quick, that touched only a corner of his mou
th. It conjured up images of a swashbuckler, an old one with crevassed skin that had seen too much sun, and long hair that had seen too few barbers. If he could teach history with all its upheavals, plot twists, and unforgettable figures, there was no doubt that he could teach his students about the vicissitudes of life with its ups and downs. At least that’s how most students imagined it would be, particularly those in this self-contained classroom who were now under his responsibility.

  The class period had come to an end, announced by a strident and intermittent bell that awakened students asleep in overheated classrooms in front of humdrum teachers. Only the history students in the small classroom at the end of the hall in the old building would have liked for their class to continue. It was with regret that they exited the room one by one. Their teacher followed slowly behind them; his students couldn’t move very quickly since their wheelchairs didn’t maneuver easily over the uneven tile floor of the widest hallway in the school.

  September 5, 20..

  THE SUNNYVILLE TRIBUNE

  Two town citizens, Sara Leneuf and Albin Carquois, ages 15 and 16, crossed the threshold of our high school for the very first time.

  Thanks to the enthusiasm and determination of our mayor, Mr. Taupe, a new class has been created at Napoleon High School. Students with physical handicaps interested in pursuing a mainstreamed education are now welcome to study alongside students of their same age at Napoleon High School.

  All accessibility issues have been addressed to facilitate an easy adjustment for the two students who will soon be joined by others. These students will most certainly be pleased by the tolerance and open-mindedness of our wonderful town of Sunnyville.

  CHAPTER 2 THE MISFITS OR A CERTAIN GOOD FORTUNE

  The M seniors (or M for “misfits” as the other students called them) had history class twice a week on the M hallway. Barely a month after arriving, Merlin had become their trusted confidant. At the beginning of each class, they covered the required syllabus material and then spent the rest of their allotted hour discussing more recent events. Debates sometimes became heated. Cosmo argued the most since his opinion had to prevail at all costs. He had a theory for everything. Sometimes Albin felt that Merlin was testing them. Though he acted like his questions were random, Merlin had surely planned what he was going to ask. Albin had no clue as to where their teacher was leading them.

  They sometimes talked about it when they were between classes in the hallway. Their courses were always held on the ground floor, but they often had to travel from one building to another and usually arrived after the bell. Albin mused cynically that their later starting time had probably been planned so that no one would see them. It had been a long time since this remark had made them laugh.

  In fact, the students at Napoleon High School rarely provided a moment of laughter for them. The teasing and critical comments were constant, and not a one of them escaped it. This real-world experience, which in theory should have helped integrate the physically handicapped into their town, had been a total failure. Yet their disabilities weren’t significant. Just some deficiencies in their motor skills, mostly due to medical problems at birth. Although simple movements were complicated for them, school subjects were no problem at all. They grasped the topics quickly and often better than the other students. If their manner of speaking was a bit halting, it only took a minimum of patience to understand what they were saying. But not a single student— among the walking ones— had ever taken the time to talk with them. It was so much easier to shun them.

  In the beginning, Sara and Albin—the first to arrive— had thought it wouldn’t take long to create real relationships with the other students who had usually looked away from them when they crossed paths in town. A stinging disappointment. They had since learned to trust only each other and to study hard so that this inclusion experiment wouldn’t be a total waste of their time. And they had learned to give up any hope of being accepted by the world of the walking.

  This resignation explains why the rapport with their history teacher evoked such happiness—a mix of genuine understanding and complicity. No one shared Albin’s skepticism about Merlin’s true motive. They accused him, particularly Arthur, of believing that there was no such thing as a good or selfless person. Even if the others secretly smiled when Arthur repeated the phrase, no one contradicted him when he defended their teacher. They would soon learn that Albin wasn’t totally wrong.

  Whatever Merlin’s real motives were, his arrival had caused a stir in the small but structured society of Sunnyville. The only classes he taught were for students in the M class, and the parents of the other students wondered if they were somehow paying for his salary. It must be said that the opening of this class had not been welcomed by all, and that in the last two years, opposing groups had begun demanding either its closing or its continued support. The mayor had not responded to any of the protests. He didn’t want to upset his electorates, but this class represented a memorial of sorts for him. He had been the father of an only child, a girl, who had been raised in isolation because he had been ashamed of her handicap. If only this class had existed, she could have been included with the other students. His regret was the driving force for supporting its existence.

  He never visited the students, but made an irrevocable decision to save this class as long as he was mayor. And in the little town of Sunnyville, no one could imagine having any mayor other than Mr. Taupe who, besides this school situation, had always responded to their every need. The townspeople of Sunnyville were simple folks. They often behaved like those in small backward villages where generations of the same family repeated the same mistakes year after year.

  Nonetheless, they talked often and a lot about this new teacher who had rented a small house on the outskirts of town, practically in the woods. A man all the divorcées flirted with in the supermarket aisle, but who, in a month, had never responded to any of their advances. Since no one knew anything about him, people made up stories. All sorts of scenarios concerning his purchases, his clothes, and his dusty car that wasn’t a make or model they’d ever seen or heard of.

  By the end of the month, curiosity had reached a boiling point. Yet no one could figure him out, even those who knew him the best, his students in the M class, the untalkative handicapped kids.

  On a Tuesday in November, Merlin came to class carrying a big heavy-looking box. He carefully placed it on his desk, and then he turned towards his students with glistening eyes.

  “Students, today I’ve brought you an object that you’ve never seen before. In this class, we study history, right? And history would be nothing without the marching of time. That’s why...I’ve brought you... a clock.”

  Upon these words, he opened the box and pulled out a hodge podge of tissue paper meant to protect the contents.

  “You know, Merlin, clocks are something we already know about. Even Arthur knows how they work, if you know what I mean,” Albin said mockingly.

  “I can assure you that this one is different from any you’ve ever seen before. Come closer. Look at it carefully and pay close attention.”

  The object, a clock, since that’s what it was being called, was made up of a big block of dark wood resting on four sturdy feet of a similar wood. Inside the block of wood was a gigantic glass marble, transparent and encased like a gemstone, visible from every side like a die set on stilts –such was this clock. Enclosed in the sphere and rotating constantly was a small piece of metal, an elongated figure eight symbolizing infinity. The distinctive symbol had never been known for leading one in the right direction since it seemed to follow its own rules. Even fate was more predictable.

  One by one, with Albin being the first, followed by Sara, they looked up in anticipation of Merlin’s explanation. When all of them, including Cosmo, the most stubborn, had given up trying to understand the hands on the strange clock, he deigned to give a semblance of an answer.

  “This clock comes from a faraway country that I was lucky e
nough to have visited many years ago.”

  His voice expressed nostalgia for his youth and also for a country where the sun shone brighter, and where the wind carried different smells. Without his saying another word, each of them envisioned scenery so secretive that it stayed buried inside and was never spoken of because there were no words to describe it. Titiana encouraged him to continue with her smile and gleaming eyes. He coughed, his voice a little hoarse, and carried on.

  “As you’ve noticed, there’s no logic to this clock. You see this symbol? You know it represents infinity, right? So, you’ve been looking at it for only a few minutes. Well, you could spend hours staring at it and not come any closer to figuring out where it’s going. Not only does the symbol turn on its own, at times changing direction, but it also travels throughout the entirety of the glass sphere without indicating which way it’s heading. And yet it’s a clock. Does anyone have any comments?”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “I could’ve bet money Cosmo would say that,” mumbled Albin.

  “There has to be some mechanical system controlling it. It can’t be totally random.”

  “Yet I assure you, Cosmo, that it is.”

  “You’ve already taken it apart?”

  “I wouldn’t dare. I believe there’s something about the quality of the air inside of it that makes it work. Particularly since the air here is quite different from the air where it was created.”

  “I know why.”

  All heads turned towards Titiana because it was so rare that she spoke. Her eyes were glued to the mysterious clock as she began to speak.

  “Time, it’s something we try to capture in hours with the spring-loaded hands telling exactly what it is. But it doesn’t always stay the same. It’s constantly changing.”

  “I would agree with that,” Arthur said, “but why would the hand move backwards, and why doesn’t it move in the same direction? And look at it now. It’s not moving.”

  Titiana gave a small smile, subtly, as was her manner in everything she did.