The Inbetween – Lesson 1

“Here,” William replies with a smile in his words, “Is as generally nowhere as everywhere else.”

It takes a second for you to pick that apart, at the end of which-

“So you just made me jog after you to a ‘here’ that is really ‘nowhere’?!” you exclaim.

William chuckles.

“You have no idea how much fun you are to manipulate,” he says.

“You have no idea how much I want to hit you,” you grumble.

A knowing light flickers through the author’s eyes as he smiles. A chill runs up your spine.

“Do it.”

You blink, “What?”

“Do what you want,” he steps back and opens his arms wide, “Hit me.”

“You don’t want me to hit you,” you say, shaking your head, “I’m no jelly-arm.”

“And I am no weakling.”

“I could hurt you!”

“That’s not new.”

“OK, seriously, how is that ‘not new’?”

“The amazing memory strikes again, or have you forgotten when I begged you not to write and you did?”

“That didn’t hurt you!”

“No, but when I tried to tell you what you wanted to know, I was hurt.”

“You hurt yourself.”

“For your sake.”

“Not that it did any good.”

The author frowns and gazes into the gray distance, “Do not be so sure.”

“OK, what else are you not telling me?” you demand.

“Many things,” he smirks again, “All of which you want to know, and most of which you would wish to unknown once known.”

You’re getting tired of these riddles.

“Just tell me about the Inbetween, please,” you growl.

“I’m trying to,” he says, and shaking his head, drops his arms, “But you won’t let me.”

You scoff, “And how am I stopping you?”

“I told you to hit me.”

“What does that have to do with learning about the Inbetween?!”

“It has everything to do with learning what you don’t know and thus cannot comprehend the process of until learned.”

With a huff, you turn away, struggling between accepting the invitation to hit him, or just stumping away into the grayness.

Or, you think, then stop. Right, the author knows what you’re thinking. Better just muse this one silently.

Not that you can hide anything from him. He knows everything. He will discover your thoughts, your ideas, your dreams . . . your secrets. He will slip his inky fingers into the very depths of your soul-

A wild wind crashes through the shadows, splitting as it passes you and hurling in a gray vortex straight at your beloved author.

He sweeps his arms up, and between him and the vortex, there streams from the shadows a thick, gelatos wall. Splattering itself across the wall’s unyielding face, your vortex dies away with a low whine.

“Very clever,” William’s voice says through the wall. From the top, it spills away, until a wide, shuddering pool lies between the author and yourself.

He continues, “Object 1: While within the Inbetween, anything you can imagine, you can also do.”

Up from the pool there slithers a long, rope-like form. It snakes towards your feet and wrapping around them, slithers up and around you. For a split-second you are about to panic as from the clingy rope there rises a transparent cobra-head. Then you stop, hold your breath, and fix your gaze on the snake’s eyes.

With a roar like thunder the coils around you snap. A burst of white flame engulfs the snake and pool, sizzling them away to nothing, then returning to linger around you in a white halo.

“What about have?” you ask, holding out a gently-flicking fire-ball in one hand.

“Well, how about we test that?” he replies smiling.

Something feels fishy.

“Imagine a chair,” the author says. With a shrug, you look at the mist-strewn ground and picture a metal folding-chair. Upwards the fog streams, forms and solidifies in the exact image of your mind. You smirk. This is fun.

“Now,” William continues, stepping forward, “Sit in it.”

You do so and look up as he reaches towards you.

“Have a chip,” he says, offering you a bowl-full of crisp, greasy-yellow tortilla chips.

You reach out to take one and-

Crash to the floor.

“Object 2: Any thing you have will only remain in existence as long as you are thinking of it.”

“Very funny,” you grumble, rubbing a bruised elbow.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” he says, shaking with silent laughter.

You glower.

He grins.

This is going to be a long day.