The Bridge (2 page)

Chapter
3

Hannah had only been across the bridge once and that was sixteen years ago. She promised her husband she would never do it again and she had kept that promise. She had crossed the bridge since then, but not all the way to the outside. She wrote her books and slipped them through the mist or gave them to those who dared to cross in hopes that they would
distribute them on the outside.

She
laid her broom aside, walked over to her desk and flipped through the pages of her manuscript. This was a special book she was writing for everyone including the outsiders across the bridge. When she was finished and copies were printed, she would slip them through the mist at the end of the bridge.
Maybe someone will find them
. She stopped and read the last thing she’d written:
“In the forest, an oak tree drops her acorns. Some are eaten by deer or carried off by squirrels or other animals, but some grow into trees. When the acorn sprouts and starts its life as a sapling, the mother oak tree somehow finds it among all the other saplings and sends it nourishment. She somehow knows which saplings are hers.

“In 1913, Francis Thompson, in his poem The Mistress of Vision, wrote, ‘Thou canst not stir a flower without troubling a star.’

“
Is it true that all things are connected throughout the universe?”

Hannah knew she had to be careful about what she wrote.
The people on the outside just don’t know. There’s bound to be someone out there who will understand, someone who wants to know the truth.

She laid one of her
books in the basket still hoping that someone would read it and understand, then continued reading:
“In the beginning, all beings were connected. At least, that
’s what we were taught. The truth is, in the beginning, we were never connected. We were never part of each other. Now, as we grow and learn, we return toward our beginning and find that we are not connected unless we wish to be.

“It was not too long ago when we
first looked at our skin through microscopes and saw tiny creatures moving about. We thought they were just on us, just on the surface of our skin. It never dawned on us that our entire body was made up of them. Today, after all those years of ignorance, we are finally experimenting with our bodies’ cells. What effect do they have on us and us on them? Can we communicate with them and them with us? How long will it be before we can all live together in peace?”

“Not bad,” said Hannah, “but it’s not the ending I want.”

****

“So our bodies are totally made up of cells,” said Meva
, “and these dark shadows come in and change everything.”

“They change everything, but you don’t know it. You continue on just like you were in control, but you’re not, you
’re only a slave to the dark shadows and then suddenly you start to experience fear and pain and then you die.”

Chapter
4

Nia was not the only child Hannah and Connor had raised. They had other children.

Arnar and Olav, who left Alfheim many years earlier when they were grown, were unafraid of what might happen to them on the outside. They knew about the dark shadows and had always kept themselves clean, but neither of them had completed the Aeosta. On the outside, the dark shadows moved in swarms, too many and too difficult for just the two of them to clean, so like all the others who had left before them, they were never seen
in Alfheim
again.

Hannah walked to the bridge with her two sons as they were leaving. She gave them each a sack lunch she had prepared and a box containing silverware from the old country. Something they could sell to the outsiders for a little money.

“You know that when you cross this bridge,” she warned them, “you will start to change and the longer you stay in the world of the outsiders, the more you will become like them. It’s the dark shadows. You will lose sight of the bridge the instant you step into the outsiders’ time. To find your way back, you must think in the future. Your father is the only one of us who has done it.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and hugged and kissed them for the last time.

“You will forget all about this place and all your friends. You probably won’t even remember me.” She started to cry again. “The outside is full of hurt. Even now as I think about it, I feel the pain. Isn’t there anything I can say to change your minds?”

“We’re grown men now,” said Arnar, “and all the women in Alfheim are taken. It’s time we had a life of our own, our own families.”

She handed them each one of the books she had written and, with tears streaming down her face, turned and ran back across the bridge.

“Don’t ever forget who you are and where you came from,” she called back to them. When she got to the other side, she turned to watch as they stepped through the mist and disappeared into the world of the outsiders. Connor was waiting for her and she fell into his arms, crying.

He had talked to his sons the night before and had said all that he could trying to convince them to stay. “If they see you in the forest, they will try to kill you. They’ll turn their dogs out to track you down and, once they find you, they’ll either shoot you or let the bats finish you off. The only way I’ve been able to do it as long as I have is by wearing outsiders’ clothes that I find at their garbage dump. The smell repels the bats. Your only chance is to make it to the old cemetery on the highway and catch a ride before the snappers get to you.” He handed them a can of insect spray. “This seems to work, but only for a short while. The outsiders wear it to keep the mosquitoes away. The smell confuses the bats so you should be able to make it to the highway, but remember there’s a war going on out there and the government drones are sometimes about. You’ll have no protection against them.”

“Why don’t you hate them?” said Arnar. “They’ve been trying to kill us since we first came here.”

“When you go out into the woods, you know there are snakes and other wild animals who live there. You are intruding on their territory. You know that if a copperhead or rattlesnake bites you, you could really be in for it, maybe even die, yet you still go out into the woods. If you get bit, the responsibility is yours, not the snake’s. You
’re senior to a snake. You can’t blame him or hate him for biting you. It’s his nature to defend his territory. It’s the same with outsiders. They’re like puppets on a string. The dark shadows have taken over their bodies. We know what they are and what they will do if we go into their world. You can’t hold them responsible for anything they do any more than the snake that bites you.”

He knew very well what they were thinking about without the words being said. They were men and there were no women in Alfheim for them. He knew what the likely outcome of their leaving would be. He was the only one who made regular trips to the outside, moving from one time to another, to trade his crops for material and appliances the village needed. None of the outsiders knew he was one of
The Hidden People. His sons were grown now and it was time they took responsibility for their own lives, no matter what the outcome. He held Hannah and they comforted each other until they had the strength to walk back to the house.

Chapter 5

Arnar and Olav sprayed themselves with the insect repellent, then ran from the bridge, using the forest as cover from the outsiders, until they came to the old cemetery on the highway. They had made it that far without being seen, but they had to catch a ride and get away from there as fast as they could. They listened for the clatter made by the snappers and the hum of the drones when they were on the hunt. They were still Huldufolk even though they had left Alfheim and, if caught, the outsiders would kill them.

“The first thing we have to do,” said Olav, the oldest of the two brothers, “is to get to a town and find jobs. It’s either that or sell our silver. The farther away from here
, the better. Far enough so that the outsiders have never heard of the Huldufolk.”

Connor had told them about money and how the outsiders used it to purchase everything. “You‘ll have to have a job to get the money and then you’ll have to give the money to someone else to have a place to live. You have to have money for the food you eat and the clothes you wear. Everything you do will require money. It’s nothing like Alfheim. The outsiders worship money. You even have to pay taxes in order to live there.”

They had no idea about social security, income tax, the way the outsiders hired, or the amount they would be paid. The truth was the government owned everything. It didn’t matter if it was communism, socialism, fascism or any of the other types of government. Everyone worked for the government. The brothers had never lived under the rule of any government, had never gone to a public school, had not graduated from high school. All of their schooling was done at home. They knew how to build a tower fashioned like the modern Tesla towers that could provide electricity for a whole village. They were far more advanced in science than the outsiders, in subjects like physics, molecular biology, the genetic codes, and DNA. Their food had always been free, especially grown to provide the nourishment their bodies needed and to protect their mind’s eye. All of the village was open to them. They took care of each other. Even the wild animals roamed free.

“We’ll have to change our names,” said Arnar. “We’ll have to have names like the outsiders.”

“But first, we have to get to a town.”

Trucks and cars sped past them as they stood on the shoulder of the highway.

“We’re going to have to split up,” said Arnar, “if we’re ever going to catch a ride. No one will stop for two grown men. There’s a war going on. They’re afraid we’ll hurt them.”

The war had spread from the
Middle East into the United Federation, but it was nearing its final moments. Except for its larger cities, Colorado was mostly safe, but the Huldufolk were never safe from the outsiders. They were hunted down like wild animals.

They divided the silverware and shook hands. Olav crossed over to the other side of the highway. He was only there for a few minutes when a truck stopped. He looked over at Arnar, waved, and smiled, then climbed into the truck. Arnar watched as the truck drove out of sight, then he started walking down the highway. He walked across the highway thinking that was the best side, but still no one stopped. He was just about to give up and go back home when a woman stopped across the highway in her little sports car and lowered the window.

“I can give you a lift into town if you’re not in a hurry. I’ve got to run down the road a piece, but then come back. I’m going as far as Crested Butte.” Arnar ran across the highway and got in before she could change her mind. It was the first time he’d ever been in a car.

“My name’s
Heidi.” She held out her hand. It was the first time Arnar had ever touched an outsider. He felt a cold chill come over him as he looked back at the gate of the cemetery, wondering if this was all a mistake. He felt alone and lost for the first time in his life.

She was a beautiful, young woman. She wore sweet smelling perfume and lipstick and other makeup. She was barefooted and her toenails were painted bright red, something the women of Alfheim never did, and she had on white shorts that exposed her pretty, soft, brown legs. Just touching her was causing a change to come over him. It was exciting. He could feel part of her moving into him as he shook her hand. He had hopes that part of him would soon be moving inside of her. He was a grown man and had never had sex with a woman. He didn’t count those times out behind the barn when he was all alone watching their neighbor’s big-bosomed wife hang out her clothes as real sex. He had never even touched a woman other than his mother. A double axle tru
ck drove by with Wakefield Ecofuel Capsule Company written on its side.

“What’s you
r name?” she asked.

Never forget who you are and where you’re from
, he heard his mother say.

We’ll have to change our names,
he’d told Olav.

“What’s your name?” she asked again.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name’s Axil Wakefield.” He released her hand and she put it back on the knob of the gearshift.

“What do you do, Mr. Wakefield?”

“I don’t understand.”

“What line of work are you in?”

“Oh,” laughed Axil. “I’m a molecular biologist. My mind was on something else.” He’d never told a lie before and he didn’t care for the feeling it gave him.

“A molecular biologist?” She had a puzzled look on her face.

“You know, cells and things. DNA, genetics, stem cells, that sort of thing.”

“You’re a scientist. How neat. Where do you work?”

It was hard for her to imagine a scientist out on the highway hitching a ride. His clothes were those of a farmer. Even his shoes were handmade.

“Right now, I’m on my own. What do you do?” He was getting nervous. He looked back to see if Olav was still there or if he’d just imagined him getting into the truck, but he had disappeared.

The thought came to him that he would never see his brother again.

“I’m an author. I write mystery novels.”

“My mother’s a writer.”

As they drove along, she asked him questions about his studies and he was more than happy to have someone to talk to about them. He told her the stories his mother had told him since he was a baby.

“Our bodies are made up of trillions of single-cell bacteria. These little cells are so small they can only be seen with a microscope and there are thousands of different species. So many that they have different languages.”

“Different languages? This is way over my head.” She shook her head trying to stay awake.

“Yes, but they can communicate with each other. Each species has their own language which is totally theirs. The other species can’t translate it, but then they have a way to communicate with others too. A common language.”

“How do they do that?”

“Well, they talk chemically. Like a mother tree in the forest always knows who her children are.”

“I thought they knew by their root system that ties them together.”

“An oak tree drops her acorns, then squirrels bury them and they grow into seedlings. There are no roots connecting them to the mother tree, yet she somehow finds them and sends them nourishment. The cells send each other messages chemically. They talk to the different species and can even communicate with you.” He smiled as she looked at him like he was insane.

“I don’t recall ever communicating with my cells.”

“When you intend something, they pick it up. They don’t think the way you do. When you have a thought to hurt something, they pick up the intention to hurt, but not the specific thing that your thought was intended for. The problem is that people don’t know this. They have good or bad thoughts and, in an instant, all of their little bacteria cells know it. You have the intention to kill and you might be the one who winds up dead. While we’re just sitting here talking and breathing in the same air, we’re exchanging bacteria. I am becoming part of you and you are becoming part of me. It’s like that everywhere with trees and animals, even the air we breath. All through the universe, these tiny bacteria are being exchanged. All communicating with each other and we, who are supposed to be so smart, are left out because of our own stupidity.”

“I have a friend, Mike, who’s a scientist. He has a research laboratory in Crested Butte. He was one of the scientists who altered the genetic structure of the spear-nosed bats you see flying around. How would you like to meet him and discuss all these wonderful things you’ve been telling me about?”

“It guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“My parents live not far from here, just outside Eagle’s Nest. Do you know where that is?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there.”

“Where did you say you were from?”

He was caught off guard. Lying didn’t come easy to him and he didn’t know what to say.

“I grew up around here.”

“I grew up around here, too, with my sister, Bonnie. You and I are about the same age and there aren’t that many people around here. How is it I’ve never seen you before?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of The Hidden People?”

He was caught. All he could do was smile.

“Are you going to kill me?” he said.

“Don’t worry
, I’ll never tell. I’ve heard about you people my whole life. I don’t know why people hate you so much.”

“They’re afraid of what they don’t understand.”

She pulled into a driveway and told him to wait. “I’ll be right back.”

It was her parents’ house and, in a few minutes, she was back and they were headed toward Crested Butte.

“I’m sorry you had to wait. That was my parents’ house and I was afraid for them to meet you. You look so much different. Your complexion is so clean and smooth. My father used to tell us stories about hunting The Hidden People when he was younger.”

Heidi
had never met a man like him before and knew she probably never would again. It was a rare occasion to see one of The Hidden People. He was Huldufolk, a clan that very few people had ever seen and she was actually talking to him. She didn’t want to let him go. All she could think about was what a wonderful novel his life story would make. He was so clean and pure.
Innocent
, she thought,
and handsome
. She invited him to dinner using the guise that she wanted to hear more about his fascinating life and work when her real intention was research for her book. The things that he had told her were fascinating, but really over her head, so much misunderstood. She laughed, thinking she could sell her book to insomniacs. She had never even considered that her body was made out of bacteria.

For Axil, it was love at first bacterial exchange and, before the night was over, she’d invited him to move into her apartment and live in the spare bedroom until he got himself settled. She never pressed him to tell her about his life. She would ask a question now and then, but just let him have his space and tell her things when he was willing. At night, while he was asleep, she would get on her computer and work on her book. After a week or so, she called her scientist friend, Mike, and invited him over one night.

“We didn’t have telephones when I was growing up,” said Axil. “I’ve never used one. We always communicated over distance by telepathy.”

“You can call someone if you want, but don’t ever answer it unless I’m here. There’s a religious group that keeps calling. I see their name on the caller ID. They’re so annoying that I never answer. They call here about three hundred times a day,” she laughed. “All they want is my money.”

Heidi’s scientist friend was so impressed with Axil that he offered him a job at his laboratory, but Axil turned him down. He wanted nothing to do with the man who developed the snappers. Later that night, Axil showed her the silver and gave her a brief review of its age and where it had come from.

In turn, she showed him the yellow butterfly she had tattooed on her right hip. Life was good. One thing led to another and before long,
Heidi was showing him the butterfly several times a day. By then, Axil didn’t care who he had been or where he had come from. The bridge and Alfheim were the farthest things from his mind. This was a new and wonderful experience for him, exchanging bacteria through bodily fluids; nothing else seemed to matter.

“How long have you known about this?” he asked her after they had sex. It sure beat watching his big-bosomed neighbor hang out her clothes. From then on, he called her Butterfly. She taught him everything she knew about sex and he told her everything he could remember about Alfheim
. He even wrote down notes when he was alone, but in a few months, his memory of Alfheim and The Hidden People was almost gone. The dark shadows were taking control.