A note: This piece of fiction is part of a larger project, a weird fiction novel.
Here is its opening: Dedication and Premise.
Or go to the Table of Contents.
THEY ambled toward the tower. Despite the stroll inspired reflection, he became more and more confused.
“So you have no answers for me?”
“I am your direction,” the girl reiterated. “In other words, I guide you. My job is not to instruct you, nor to dispel the doubts that will plague you along the way.”
Fine, clear concepts. But he didn’t understand the precise meaning of Saqirlat’s presence. He remembered the article he had read before he got lost. “All right. Are you the one telling me which way to go at the crossroads?”
“No. I am the direction you should take. The right one. So, the one you have to discover.” The girl made a pause, which he thought was strategic, allowing the concepts expressed to be imprinted in his mind. “The decisions, however, are in your hands.”
“So what are you?”
“Think of me as a tour guide. You decided to come here, and as a result, here I am. I know all the places you might pass by and visit.”
“Like the tower?” he asked as they reached it.
The lone tower soared. From the flagpole, the concentric ripples expanded on and on toward the Milky Way, which he could now admire in all its splendor, despite the intense light at the bottom of the valley.
“It’s called the Reverse Tower.”
Ah. He scrutinized the bluish stone. “Is the name because what should be at the bottom is at the top? That instead of the sky there’s a… lake?”
The girl giggled adorably. “Funny, but no. It’s called that because once you’re inside, you have to climb the stairs to get out.”
“Ah.” Better and better.
They resumed walking. A few steps ahead, Oto kept sniffing the ground: he never got tired!
“There’s still one thing I don’t understand… well, one!” He laughed to himself. This time, Saqirlat didn’t lose her composure. “You say I decided to come here.” The girl nodded. He thought about it because he wanted to explain himself with clarity. “Are you talking about the path I took when I got lost? When I decided to go back?”
“No, that wasn’t a decision.”
“How do you mean?!”
“It wasn’t, Isra,” Saqirlat insisted. “Your decision came before that, otherwise the path would’ve been the same as always. And now you’d already be at home.”
“Before…” He made a thoughtful, silent pause. “Are you talking about the crossroads?”
“I don’t know how to answer you, Isra.”
“But you just answered me!” He halted, once again surprised and confused. “You told me that the one I was talking about wasn’t a decision.”
“Because, Isra, you created me by deciding. If that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t exist.” The girl conversed with ease. “For the same reason, unfortunately, I can’t tell you what your decision was. I can’t know it. It happened a moment before my existence.”
“I decided and… you were born?”
“Exactly.”
“Grow up fast!” he commented in frustration.
After circling the tower, they were now standing in front of the massive wooden door, which showed already wide open to the inside, challenging the shadows. The only thing visible was the base of a stone staircase.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked in surprise.
Saqirlat shook his head.
“If you’re trying to confuse me, you’re succeeding.” He could sense her disappointment. “Weren’t you my tour guide?”
“I’m your direction and you can consider me your tour guide.” The girl just nodded. “But I also told you the decisions will always be yours.”
“What is there to decide here?” He pointed somewhat angrily at the Reverse Tower: he had no desire to be left alone. “We have to go in and climb the stairs, right? That’s already decided, and you told me so.”
Saqirlat gave him a serious stare. “Do not mistake my descriptions for decisions already made. I’ve only told you why the tower is called Reverse. I didn’t tell you that you have to go inside it and climb the stairs.”
Mm. True.
He studied the shadows inside for a while longer. Then he thought he understood: “So, we’ll see each other again soon, right?”
Saqirlat nodded again.
He put Oto on a leash, which was one of those made to be worn over the shoulder, so he wore it to have his hands free: he couldn’t look after himself and the creature’s hungry curiosity. Not now, not there. On top of it, he liked the idea of not plastering the construction interior with urine.
“See you soon, then.” He held out his hand and Saqirlat took it in hers. The girl’s touch felt cool and smooth. His heart quickened for a few heartbeats until she let him go with a double caress. He smiled at her, then looked at Oto, who was wagging his tail at him. “Vamos, mi niño. ¡Ven!”
The Reverse Tower was nothing more than a huge hollow cylinder, along whose blueish walls a spiral of stone steps climbed toward the shapeless darkness. It seemed endless.
At once, he was overcome by the humidity and the sharp smell of mold. He took out his smartphone and checked the battery charge: one hundred percent? Impossible. Well, given what he was experiencing, he told himself that his definition of “impossible” needed updating. He let out a dry laugh, the echo of which faded upwards, and on instinct he followed it with his gaze, studying the shadows that swallowed the last visible steps: what was up there? The exit, he answered himself. Hm. As absurd as it sounded, the task seemed within his reach. But the question was, to get out where? Where did the Reverse Tower lead?
He retraced his steps, with Oto forced to stay at his side on a leash. Once outside, he looked around. “Saqirlat?”
Silence.
He called the Direction three times, then pursed his lips: Oto and he were alone. On second thought, he realized the girl wouldn’t have answered such a question, even if she had been still there waiting for him. Yeah.
“Okay. Are you ready?”
Oto wagged his tail in excitement. Just for a change, he seemed to be the only one who was worried.
He went back inside and approached the stairs. He turned on the LED on his smartphone and pointed it upward. As soon as he put one foot on the first step, the inner edge of the staircase lit up, drawing an ascending spiral; blue, yes. Straight away he checked whether he could now see the top, but no: not even a direct light could unravel the shadows above, as if they were a thick curtain. The nth oddity.
Fed up with his indecision, he started climbing.
When he had made three full turns, he reached a niche. It contained a dark wooden box of simple workmanship. The only decoration was an inlay in the center of the lid, representing a rather elaborate key: the handle was shaped like an eye, the shaft looked like a branch, and the notches on the comb formed a tangle of roots that spread out and wrapped around the entire lid.
Could he open it? He studied the niche, looking for a clue or some kind of alarm. Nothing. Hesitant, he touched the box, ready to withdraw his hand. Still nothing. So he attempted to raise a little the lid, encountering no resistance. Fearing the unknown, he closed it right away, gently, and listened: absolute silence save Oto’s panting.
He resolved to open it. Inside laid a parchment rolled up by a blue ribbon. At a glance it was a print, nothing ancient. Only the parchment looked like it, but it must have been fake. He took out his smartphone and shone a better light on the few words he could see without removing the ribbon and unrolling it.
“many mocking the Chinese. Then it reached Italy and I read mean judgments about Italians from all over the world. The Spanish”
He straightened his head and stared at a point in mid-air. Although a brief chunk, the text dispelled any doubt: he couldn’t comprehend how, but those words were his.
Now certain that the box was waiting for him, he removed the ribbon. He hadn’t just the right to open it, he had to. So he unrolled the parchment.
««« PREVIOUS PIECE (CHAPTER THREE, Part 1 of 2)
»»» NEXT PIECE (CHAPTER FOUR)
Author’s Note: This is my translation from Italian. Translating is an exciting experience, but also quite frustrating. I’m no longer used to not having complete control over the language I use to tell my stories.
No matter how hard I try, and despite many revisions, I will never be as good as an expert English writer, or a professional translator, which I can’t afford, unfortunately.
If you notice any grammatical or syntactic errors—horrors!—please point them out to me in the comments. I will be forever grateful.
Gloss: Quirky is fine with me, as long as it's an acceptable solution in English. You have no idea how weird this story is going to get.