We live in the middle of a story if we can’t see the ending can we really understand the beginning?   I can’t avoid them school work church even online --heart of anonymity they knew when I was on and tracked me down at least I don’t have a cell phone for them to call   One night at youth group our pastor had us draw the face of someone who had hurt us so we could throw darts at it I can’t draw but Arkn’s eyes haunt my dreams I throw lots of darts piercing the picture like Swiss cheese then he tears off the picture   underneath is the face of Christ The image hits me like an arrow His face is pockmarked with dart wounds   Tears press against my eyelids I don’t even hear his words the image says everything   I run over to Mandy Evan Grace even Renee “I’m sorry” the word springs from my lips like a hawk  set free “I’m sorry”   Grace hugs me “We’ve been praying for you.”   “Thanks” I sniff “And Renee— I’m especially sorry none of this mess is your fault.”   “Mandy showed me your stories. Are you going to write more?”   “I don’t know how they end?”   Evan reaches into his backpack hands me a composition notebook “We took notes. Arkn said you’d know how to tell the stories”   I take the notebook “Thanks” I squeak   “But what I’d love to know is how Arkn chose you” Renee says   “Well—“   “Okay, let’s wrap it up guys We still have to discuss it” pastor calls   “Tomorrow, then at lunch” I follow them back to the chairs Grinning ear to ear   “Here, Bailey” Mandy calls “I’ll warm up your soup”   “Thanks” I plop down pealing foil from a boisonberry yogurt the others stare at me   “Come on, tell the story” Renee pleads   I lazily scoop up a spoonful “Do you want it immediately—with interruptions— or later without breaks?” I was toying with her and they knew it I hadn’t told a story to anyone since Arkn left and posting online isn’t the same   Mandy comes back with a steaming bowl “You didn’t start without me, did you?”   “Course not,” I grin “I’m ready now.”   Mandy sits down “Then get going.”   I clear my throat “I first saw Arkn in a dream” I close my eyes, remembering “I was flying over an ocean when my wings shrank I was f  a    l      l        i          n             g Arkn caught me I was crying but he held me and when I awoke I could still feel his heartbeat” I pause for a soup spoonful “I made a story of it posted it online Arkn saw it and somehow he found me though I never use my real name online But I first met him at forensics when I read my story for prose He was a judge, gave me a twenty-five (perfect score) and when I sat down I recognized his face (that was the last round) he followed me out of the room   ‘You remind me of the man in my piece’ I commented   He smiled knowingly ‘It was a good story who wrote it?’   I blushed ‘I did’ (You aren’t supposed to read your own work at forensics) ‘It was a dream I had’   ‘I had that dream once but I was the one who caught you’   I stepped backwards ‘Who are you?’   ‘My name is Arkn’ He took my hand we stepped through an invisible wall into the memory room”   “Why do you call it the memory room?” Renee asks   I take another spoonful of soup “Arkn says it’s only made of memories”   “And thoughts” Grace’s half-closed eyes gazed inward   “It was like my bedroom right down to the fallen posters on the floor because of our crummy masking tape.   ‘Who are you?’ I asked again. ‘Arkn?’ The name tasted  like silver or starlight   ‘A teacher’ he said   ‘Like Blajeny A Wind in the Door by L’Engle?’ I asked   He smiled ‘Yes. and no’   ‘Whom do you serve?’ I’d read enough to be wary of folk claiming to come from dreams but he didn’t feel bad   ‘Whom do you serve, Bailey Green?’ His eyes glowed ‘Why should I not ask you the same?’   A grin creased my face ‘Evil doesn’t joke’ and I still remembered his arms catching me ‘Why are you here?’   ‘To teach you,’ He answered   ‘Teach me what?’ Thinking of all the powers I’d ever read I repeated myself ‘What will you teach me, Arkn?’   He smiled enigmatically ‘Do mysterious men ever explain themselves?’   I thought for a moment Gandalf Merlin Wizards ‘No,’ I grinned in the middle of my own fantasy story   After we left the memory room He ate lunch with us four Mandy, Evan, Grace— they had dreamt of him too And the next day at lunch he opened the door to the memory room.” I turn to Renee ‘You dreamt of him too’   She nods “It was a week after your mother—“ She freezes   “Can you tell us now?” Mandy asks “Please?”   I swallow a lump in my throat “Yes”   I tell them   Evan blinks as I finish “That doesn’t sound like your mother”   I nod “She does get mad but ‘demon’ and ‘phantom’ are OoC terms for her”   “OoC?” Renee asks   “Out of Character. Maybe it was an alien” Mandy lowers her voice “Who knows…”   “Where do you think we are the Twilight Zone?” Evan teases “Has she mentioned Arkn since?”   “No” I shake my head “And if she yells she apologizes eventually”   “Maybe it wasn’t her then?”   “What would it be, a ghost?” Renee rolls her eyes   I mentally scroll through a list of fantasy phantoms “Shapeshifter?” I suggest   “You should ask Arkn” Grace suggests   I tear a page from my notebook Arkn, My mom doesn’t normally act like that Are there— I cross it out Is there a chance it was someone else? Something disguised?   I scrawl another phrase I’m sorry for my behavior I don’t hate you I don’t blame you But I do miss you Thank you for the story notes I sign my name then add a ps   Polinye queta Quenya Umalye pola   I hand it to Renee “Give this to Arkn for me please”   “What does pole-in cue-ta… what does this mean?’ she asks.   “Just a little joke” The bell rings we head off to class   but the memory of the meaning makes me laugh   I can speak Quenya You can’t