Tucker Archer

Archive for April, 2011|Monthly archive page

Chapter 110: Zip

In Uncategorized on April 20, 2011 at 1:43 am

I unzip the mesh between the branes and move along. Every world seems wet. One with constant rains, one with humid forests, another with fountains and hanging gardens.

I keep moving.

I pass through parades, through funerals, through coronation processions. I don’t stop. I just keep moving.

Endless corridors in endless museums. Paintings, artifacts, uniforms, computers with exposed guts.

Moving faster now.

Then zoos: a ibex, a flock of penguins, dogs with matted purple fur.

A little faster.

I’m building momentum.

Soon, I can stop pushing, and I’ll just be able to coast. To move forward without struggling.

Zip, unzip, zip.

Chapter 109: Talking in Circles

In Uncategorized on April 19, 2011 at 1:33 am

What are you doing out here, anyway? What are you trying to prove? What are you trying to find?

Don’t act like you’ve got all the answers! I snap at her.

But of course, she raises a good point. I’ve burned more bridges than I’ve built.

I’m exploring for the sake of exploring. That used to be enough, at the start. But now I feel aimless and unmoored. I want there to be an endgame, I want to be looking for something instead of running from everything.

So, what are you going to do now? she asks.

Get moving.

Keep moving.

Chapter 108: You Again

In Uncategorized on April 18, 2011 at 1:09 am

And as I’m staring down at the water, I hear a familiar voice.

I mean, not out loud. Just inside my head.

Take a deep breath, says the Margery of Self Preservation.

Oh hello, dear. It’s been ages since we talked. Where the hell have you been? I respond.

I’m always here. I just don’t speak up unless you’re about to do something REALLY stupid.

Okay. So, what stupid thing am I about to do now? I ask.

You’ve been doing stupid things for years now. Maybe its time to head home.

Home is not going to be any safer.

Chapter 107: Trestles and Tresses

In Uncategorized on April 17, 2011 at 12:52 am

And when I’m feeling maudlin, I always gravitate towards the same location.

After he died, I climbed up onto an old railroad bridge that spanned a slow-moving river. I cut off all my hair, and then I turned the blade against my skin.

Every place I visit, I look for some sign of him. I’ve never found a timeline where he didn’t die a violent death. But I can’t stop looking.

I stare down at the muddy water, transfixed by the eddies.

So, what should I do now? Re-visit old haunts? Look for old friends? Head home?

I’m stuck in park.

Chapter 106: Pushing Paper

In Uncategorized on April 16, 2011 at 12:40 am

I visit another half dozen bookstores, grabbing a different copy of “The Worldwalker” each time and comparing them line by line. There must have been a reason I got caught in a skip, a reason I was pushed towards a Margery who writes, and I think my theory’s got to be right.

But try as I might, I’m just not sure that there’s a link between the book and the boys in black.

Damn it, M2. Why do I think you’re the one that first got the boys on the scent?

So now I’m adrift again. And feeling kinda maudlin.

Chapter 105: Blink and You’ll Miss Me

In Uncategorized on April 15, 2011 at 12:09 am

We talk for a little while, even though she’s exhausted by the whole turn of events. I can’t tell her everything, but I give her the highlights while she nestles under the covers.

“I should go,” I say after a few hours. “I wouldn’t worry about any other visitors.”

“This has been, without question, the weirdest night of my life.”

“Probably,” I say as I stand up.

“Can I…can I watch while you go? I want to see what it looks like when it happens.”


I smile and say, “Good luck with your next book.”

She blurs. I’m gone.

Chapter 104: Dead End

In Uncategorized on April 14, 2011 at 3:42 am

I’ll save you the tiresome exposition and just give you the rundown.

She’s not a traveler, never met a traveler. Maybe some other Margery who also wrote a book in their timeline had met a traveler, but not this one. She’s just got a fertile imagination.

She’s never been interrogated by any government bodies…though I suppose it would have been easy enough to pump her for information under the guise of an interview for a newspaper or magazine.

I think I broke her brain a little.

I also think that I’ve hit a dead end.

So, now what, I wonder?

Chapter 103: Tumble

In Uncategorized on April 13, 2011 at 3:33 am

I get her some water from the bathroom, and take stock of the room. It’s nice. Really nice. I spy a minibar, and grab a couple of tiny bottles of liquor as well. Chances are, she’s gonna want a drink when she wakes up.

She’s even tinier up close. I wonder when the last time was that she ate a good meal. Or maybe she’s just blessed with good genes. The humor of that thought takes a minute for me to process, but when it does I laugh, and she starts to stir.

“Margery? Take it easy. You took a tumble.”

Chapter 102: Blink Like a Rabbit

In Uncategorized on April 12, 2011 at 1:06 am

She blinks. Again, harder.

“I’d ask who the hell you are, but I think I know the answer. I don’t think I like the answer, though.”

“You’re taking this fairly well. Am I the first other Margery you’ve met?”

“There are others? Oh. Oh, of course there are. Um, no, you are definitely the first.”

“Why don’t you sit down? You look like a ghost.”

Poor thing. She falls into a dead faint.

I didn’t think that people actually fainted like that, like a Jane Austen character falling into a swoon.

I scoop her up and set her on the bed.

Chapter 101: Mirror Images

In Uncategorized on April 11, 2011 at 3:54 am

I open the door, and sneak inside. I shut the door, and hear the water shut off.

Margery the writer emerges in a towel with freshly blow-dried hair.

There’s always a frisson of tension when two of us meet. We are like deer in the headlights, transfixed by a magic mirror that doesn’t quite reflect our own motions.

There are a thousand unasked questions buzzing in the air around our heads. Will there be violence? Will we embrace? And of course, the question I always ask first in my head, Has she ever seen another Margery before?

I’m thinking she hasn’t.