I could have chosen a better time.
A better place at the very least but in the end, both were out of my control. There was no prior telling that the snow would still be falling come March. There was also no force that could have kept the man in his seat to listen, the first time around that we had spoken. It was something of a brief chat. Within minutes, the other's mind was made up about topics of fate, creation, and whether an entity that walked up to him in a coffee shop could really hold the answers that he had always wanted.
It didn't seem to matter now. After the long trek out to the 'middle of nowhere' which I had always grown to envision fondly, I happened upon the large, cobblestone building on the western edge and gave the heavy wooden door a few knocks. The confused and shocked face of the man who had opened the door was to be expected... a welcome inside was not. To my surprise, a kettle of tea was put on the stove and two seats were precariously taken at a kitchen table. One stubborn writer, one stubborn ghost.
“You know, after you up and left the first time,
I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“I assure you.
you weren’t going to see me.”
“Could a visit change your mind?”
“Perhaps… Maybe not.
How you made your way out here
on your own is another question.”
“You’ve been through enough that I know you can’t just deny it for yourself.
In the least, I didn’t think you’d walk away for good.”
“I didn’t think I would be hearing
nonsense so early in the morning.”
“You say it’s nonsense, but you’re a smart man.
You’ve seen a lot of the impossible, and more importantly,
here you are.”
Had the man always been so stubborn? I wasn’t certain for sure.
When Spencer’s eyes wandered toward the door I had come through, I cleared my throat.
“Fine. Let’s call it hypothetical then.
Do- or would you have any questions for me?”
“Alright then. If you claim my creation,
then surely you could tell me what my name was.
Before the day I woke up.”
“It’s far too early to tell you.”
“…what happened to me?
surely you would know the origin,
and why wouldn’t you have given me that?”
“I’m sorry. Not yet.
There's a lot of things I'd like to tell you,
and I promise. There will come a time.”
“You say not yet as if you would,
as if you had ever known.”
“You think? I know the first journal entry in your newest
notebook was started on January eleventh. I know that
you write your birth date in as February 30th when
you have to. You trained yourself to be ambidextrous.”
“Nothing is stopping you, or anyone else from being observant.
No matter the level of detail, mind you.”
“I know that day, you woke up in a grain field.
How your feet ached by the time you reached the first community.
And your Riding jacket is still in his den, folded and face down.”
“Tell me, just where was this then?
Where I woke up? I was alone.”
“Off the coast of Greenland.”
The conversation went silent when my words ended and the man stared me down vividly.
Spencer seemingly had paused to let his thoughts shuffle themselves back into order.
“What do you know of Nightwing..?”
“You believe me?”
what became of Nightwing? The dragons,
after the Wars- during my absence?”
“Time is what happened, and time has a way of changing things.
Many are around yet, I wouldn’t worry. Absent, misplaced,
but they aren’t gone for good.”
“I don’t entirely know for sure, but-”
“Would the creator not know?”
“You’re an immortal man, do you know everything yet?
Besides. Chanook's fate is out of my control.”
“I don’t know where he is, but I know he’ll be alright.
No matter what I might say, don’t give up your searching.”
“Just… how much do you know of me?”
“A lot, but not everything.
There’ll be things I find out just as quickly as you do.”
“No matter, we’ll talk again soon.
I promise you.”
“You made your way out here,
only to leave so soon?”
“Says the man that walked out last time?
But yes; I meant it when I wanted to speak with you.
I’ll be able to answer more next time, I promise.”
“So be it.”
- To Be Continued -
See Also: [Session 1] [Session 2] [Session 3] [Session 4] [Session 5]