I wasn't expecting to finish the original version of 'Torug Gilgamesh' here in the library at Kolvir before supper, but I did. Those kids I remember from school, the ones who wasted time reading so much fiction, were they on to something more? *I* always felt good, as long as I had friends. What could stories give that was beyond what friendship offered? Was I now finding there was more to these 'stories'? Carmen Asto, she was on to something. I had such a crush on her.
Carmen Asto or was it Carmen Asta, I can't quite remember... Anyway, I vividly remember when I actually worked up enough courage to ask her to the Snowball Dance during my sophmore year. I would have to first take her on a date of somekind before asking her to the dance. "Whatcha readin'", I began, thinking myself *awfully* 'cool' for making my intro contextual.
She was leaning up against the lime green tiles of my high school's walls, sitting on a folded red, white and brown sweater with her jet black hair hanging forward, obscuring her face, shoulders and chest.
"The Book of Gilgamesh. It comes before the bible by, I don't know, two thousand years...", she answered without looking up.
It was bad enough that a Pole was asking an Hispanic out in a Cook county suburb where the school was as divided as the streets; I didn't need her talking about things I didn't understand on top of that. I guess she wasn't Catholic. And Mama wouldn't have approved.
"Well, Gilnomesh huh? Sound's like a fish caught in a net", Oh yeah, I was so cool.
"Its Gil-GA-mesh, and you couldn't be more wrong", she looked at me and blinked, after sweeping her beautiful black hair around her head in a clockwise motion. During those intermitent flashes of her lovely brown eyes, I died. Each time the lashes and eyelids closed in slow motion, my heart thudded its final beat.
Somehow, the whithering nature of her words caught up though, and I knew there was *no way* she was going to accept my intended invitation to the roller rink. "Oh", I said. I walked away thinking that I was the stupid one wasting time even thinking about the roller rink, but later I concluded that she and all the other social losers like her were simply spinning their wheels in fantasy. After actually reading this book though, here in Amber, for a bit, my perspective was changed.
I closed the book and sighed. So much about what I'd learned in history, about human nature made sense. Everything in my career, cruising the street, working bunko and finally the jewel of police work, homocide. It- all of it was small, but it made sense. Strange how the power of a bunch of words all put together in a sequence could make the things in a life all make sense. Only for a second or two though. The pure crystaline image of clarity was fraying around the edges ever so slightly when I heard Ander come in. The clarity of the book dissolved into reality, real yes, but somehow fuzzy, empty without someone to talk to.
"Hey Victor what have you been up to?"
"Reading mostly. This is quite a library you folks have here", I responded lamely, the words scraping phleghm from the inside of my throat. "Food's not bad either"
"Speaking of food", he gestured with one of the two plates I just noticed he had with him, before setting it down in front of me.
"Well, thanks", I pulled the plate closer and drew silverware from a maroon cloth napkin. "Well, let's see before we parted you were heading out to a ship of some kind to meet up with your sister, Brenda? Anne? and I was busy keeping your kinsman, Theseus from choking on his own tongue."
"Breann. And yes, I suppose I frantically assigned you the role of Nightengale. Sorry. It didn't suit you"
"Oh, don't fret, I'm coming along. You, on the other hand, look like a guy who's just recovered from amnesia, and is hanging out with some former associates who are treating you just as they did before you couldn't remember."
"Hey, ha, yeah", he laughed, "I've really ... " Ander shook his head and blinked. "I don't know how I'm keeping it together."
"Start with the literal. What have you been up to? Keep it simple and concrete", I grabbed a forkfull of what looked like a white meat sausage drenched in a cream sauce.
Ander told me about 'trumping' to Le Roue and meeting up with Breann. He spoke of a battle with the Blod Continuus and fighting an angelic looking piece of evil itself. I took it in stride, the shock value of surpirses were wearing thin. At least he won the fight.
Ander, in retelling of the exploit stopped a couple of times with a revealing look on his face. He would continue, but finally he announced, "I'm awfully lucky sometimes. I can influence things." A smile crept across his face. "Wow, I'll show you that sometime, remind me. But what I was leading up to is this meeting with the whole family..."
He continued with jumbled narration of Dierdre, Benedict, Gerard, Fiona and Finndo. His sister Breann, his cousins Lysander, Theseus, Quinn. Kethos the Gruff and Osric the evil. All of them related. I laughed just before the complexity overwhelmed me. It was almost familiar.
"What are you laughing at? This is serious business, Victor!"
"Sorry, I just think I'd need a chalk board and some eight by ten glossies to sort this out."
"Victor, I'm sorry, but this isn't some simple bit of felony. I knew at least some of these people before I left, and I can't even keep it straight. I don't even know how to think about it."
"Its easy, that is what I was laughing about"
"Victor, I haven't shared this with my kin, but I'm confused and tired. Please talk some sense. Now."
Ander's words had a force behind them I'd only seen once since coming to Amber. It was actually nice to see him tapping a power within. I didn't care that he was getting a little impatient. It would make him more receptive.
"You said you couldn't even think about it. You don't even have a model to think about it. It dawned on me that this place Amber is kind of like a time on Earth, Shadow Earth that is. It was in Chicago of all places. The mob was a pseudo family who thrived on loyalty, romanticism, violence, power, corruption, deceipt and betrayal. If I think of your family in the context of the mob I grew up reading about, it seems to make it easier when sorting out who is doing what", I stopped and waited for him to take my head off. He didn't so I continued, "There seem to be three parties and alot of confusion about who is doing what. Finndo told you that Osric was ready to capitilize on this black phenomenon as it started. Sort of implicates him in the creation of the Black Cloud. Finndo has claimed responsibility for these other unrelated attacks. Finndo has made everything clearer, but only if you believe him. Osric hasn't had a chance to 'make a statement' as it were, but then you and I were witness to what Osric did to Theseus. This tends to support Finndo's explanation. However, as is typical of your family, another read on this might change everything. Theseus, Eric's son I remind you, likely resents Dierdre's grab for the throne. It is possible that he faked the attack from Osric for any one of a number of reasons. I submit that you must guard your loyalties Prince Ander, and watch your back. It isn't a calming way to live, but that appears to be beyond your choice right now."
Ander's brow knotted considerably. He swallowed another bite of rice with a green seasoning lightly mixed in.
"Sorry Ander, maybe I'm not much help to you right now"
"No you are, Vic", he replied slowly, "You are a big help to me. I'm still the Carlyle you know, in my outlook, but with the knowledge and ability of Ander inside me. You in part were responsible for making me Carlyle. You found me and showed me kindness and I don't know, 'tuned me into' a real satisfying way of life. Now, now that I know I'm much more than Carlyle was, I don't exactly know how to expand that personality to my new dimention without corrupting it. Does any of this make sense?"
"It seems like your just asking yourself the same questions everyone else does. The answers probably aren't that easy."
"There is something that worries me though. I won't ever become the man I was, and yet some of the elements, some of the things I'm happy that being Carlyle allowed me to leave behind have already crept in here and there. Let me explain. Do you remember when you, Quinn, Anax, Dierdre and I sat down to first discuss how to resuce Fiona? Do you remember how my mom said, 'as the Crown Prince of Amber it is your responsibility...' She was manipulating me, yes, but just for a flash there, this raw ambition ran throughout my body. Ah the Throne of Amber. Then I recognized it as a former trait and I fought it and beat it back, but what if I hadn't? I have much to make up for, but more importantly, I want to be a different man. I'm worried that slowly I will become something I don't want to be."
"Ander, Carlyle, ambition isn't an evil thing. Without it, what would you ever acheive? Everyone will grow and nobody's perfect. Just stay true to what you hope to be, and you'll come to terms with yourself. I don't yet understand why you left this place, frankly. I like it here."
"Ya know Vic, I was ready to come back here. Before Katherine did something to me. Back when I had my talent. I was ready to be part of the Amber court. I was going to come back here show every single one of these bastards how great I was. Which in itself is inconsistent with who I am now, something I don't want to turn back to. I was going to do it with my music, because music, ... It was something I was good at and I was going to prove it, maybe I did. Vic, I'm scared, I don't remember how to compose. Out on the sea, I thought about it for quite awhile. I remember how to play, but I can't remember how to write. Katherine really took that time from me."
"You've just got to give that time. Maybe if you played enough, you might remember?"
"Maybe", Ander paused and his tone changed. He was more like Amber's Ander, "Listen, I've got to get back to that meeting. We still need to talk about getting you back to Earth or making more permanent arrangements for you to stay here. Of course, if this Black Cloud keeps up, maybe this won't be such a great place to be. Which reminds me, we need to get some fencing lessons for you or that sabre at your side will just look silly. If you have any other needs let me know. Why don't we plan to share a drink, something less 'potent'?"
"Sounds good, Ander. Oh, as your 'secretary' is there anything you require of me Lord Ander?"
His face became that of Carlyle. "You prick!", he smiled and stood. "Nothing right now my good man; you just keep reminding me when I get too caught up in this", he said as skipped up the steps for the library's foyer, "See you later."
The next text I had selected to read was about the Vendri Enchanters of the Cu'Lan Swamps. It lay under a bound set of scrolls from the Nag Hamadi. How the hell was I reading these things so quickly? I moved Torug Gilgamesh over to my done pile and brought the next book closer. I sat back with my plate and finished the food Ander brought me. It brought peace to a grumbling stomach and a smile to my face. Yes, books have an almost magical affect on the reader; but do they really compete with the feeling that real friendship brings?