Timewaster's Guide Archive

Count me in as yet another first-timer to the forum.  When I saw Brandon's prompt earlier this week on Twitter, I figured I'd give it a try and see what happened.  This is the result.  I hope it's a fun read, even if I'm sure there's plenty of tweaking to be had.  You can find it at my serial fiction blog, Ink Raindrops, as well. http://abruce.november-fifth.com/

Title: Roland's Madness

“Let’s start with your name. Can you remember that?”

“Claude? Is that you? Ye’ve lost weight, dearie. Just like ye were ten years ago, when ye wore that lily-white dress, and-”

“No. I’m not Claude. My dress is blue. See, right here? Blue. And that was more than ten years ago, I promise you that.”

“With a pretty lass like ye, maybe I’ll be lookin’ a little closer, eh?”

“No, no. Please! Sit back down, you’ll hurt yourself. How could you- oh, never mind. Questions. You still didn’t tell me your name.”

“They used t’call me Captain Jericho. Mister Winter. Mud-boy.”

“Those aren’t names. They’re nicknames. You’ve told me all of them before. I want the name you were born with. The name your mother gave you.”

“Mama... Mama dances under the sun... singin’ her praises far and wide...”

“...and that is a wartime drinking song. This is getting us nowhere.”

“Loosen up, lassie. Relax a spell. Sit ‘ere on my lap and we’ll talk, just like we use’ta.”

“This is important. You’ve forgotten so much, I barely know where to begin. And yet, sometimes I think you do remember, somewhere in there...”

“O’course I remember the war! Th’ lightning, th’ fire, laid waste t’everythin’. This old man was luckier’n most. People died out there.”

“I didn’t say anything about... well, okay, I said ‘war’ a minute ago, but...”

“Blood, lassie, ain’t fer the likes o’sweet things like yerself. I had a girl yer age, once. Cried every time th’ wagon brought th’ bodies home. I miss her, I do. Is she here yet?”

“I... she’s here. She’s doing her best to help you right now, if you’ll only let her. She’s holding your hand now. Can you feel it?”

“I can feel just fine, lassie. Tell ‘er I’m sorry, all right? I’m sorry I wasn’t good to ‘er. Like I oughta been. Didn’t spend enough time home. Didn’t teach ‘er the things I shoulda. All my fault.”

“You... do you know what you’re saying? Do you remember, now?”

“No interruptin’ an ol’ man, now. If I stop, I may jus’ not start again. Things don’t work th’ way they use’ta, after ten years. Captain Jericho use’ta say that.”

“...Never mind. I didn’t think this would be so hard. ...Okay. That girl you talked about, she was just a baby when you knew her, right? Do you remember her name?”

“Sugarplum. My dear, sweet Shelley...”

“That’s right! So you do remember! Or...”

“...stop a moment, lassie. My head... I’m not quite right, am I? Th’ words just don’t come anymore. Like drippin’ water from a well. They come, an’ then don’t, and then...”

“It’s okay. Take your time. You’ve survived a very serious injury. It’s only natural that it would take some time to heal. Maybe I’ve pushed too hard. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry yer pretty li’l head now, Claude. God knows I love ye just the same.”

“...I love you too. I’m not Claude, though. Try to remember.”

“I remember... fire, an’ lightnin’, and death. I didn’t want to. I wanted to go home, to my Claude, and my dear, sweet Sugarplum, and...”

“Is that why you did it? So you could come home?”

“I forgot to remember... their names. I wrote them on my skin. With red ink.”

“That... that was blood, not ink. They washed it off when they brought you in.”

“I forgot... I forgot everythin’! How did I forget? I remember... I remember forgettin’!”

“Calm down. Take it slowly, one step at a time. You seem angry. Did I upset you?”

“Memories... like fire an’ lightnin’ in the back of my head, burning... killing... have mercy on me, Gods of Virtue! Take pity on me, Gods of Mercy! Begone, demons of recollection!”

“Father, stop! You have to sit down, please! We can get through this, you just need to calm down. I just wanted to know why...”

“Th’ fire burned it away. All of it. I took the fire in my hands and it burned my mind away. I took the lightnin’ in my hands and it struck my soul astray. Mama... dances under the sun...”

“Father... I’m so sorry! We’re so close. You remember the magic, and the war, and you even remember Mother and me. But you don’t remember your name, or why...”

“‘Ere now, my dear, sweet Shelley Sugarplum. Don’t cry. Yer daddy said he’d be home t’ tuck ye into bed. He lied. But he made a bet and won it. All he had to do was call a li’l fire, ride a li’ lightnin’, and he’d be home afore sunset. The demons told him, they did.”

“Wait. Did they really tell you that? That using magic... would get you home?”

“Sure did. Won th’ bet, he did. An’ he forgot all about it. He tried t’ remember, though. He sure did try.”

“...that’s what I wanted to know. Those Gods-cursed wretches... they’ll pay dearly for this. Even they have to know the side effects of magic, after so many years...”

“Are you still here, Claude? Turn down th’ bed, love. A nap’ll do me right good...”

“Oh, no. ...I’m not Claude. I’m Shelley. Your Shelley Sugarplum. I’m... glad you remembered me, at least a little. I’m not that little girl anymore, but... I...”

“Good night, miss Claude. Tomorrow, maybe we’ll take Shelley Sugarplum down t’ th’ lake an’ get ‘er feet wet. She oughta learn t’ swim someday.”

“...just rest, Father. Rest, for the first and last time in thirty years. Mother has been waiting for you a long time.”

“Thank ye... my Sugarplum.”

“Goodbye... Roland. My father. You’ve given me everything I needed. I’ll make sure this never happens again. The truth must be told.”