The Transport

Reads: 328  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
short story about a blanket that can transport to a fantasy realm

Submitted: December 20, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 20, 2012




The Blanket

I sat facing the sea; all at once I felt a distant sense of nostalgia. A sweet smell mixes with salt whipped at my hair. The only thing separating myself and the sea was a short stretch of sand scattered with remnants of broken shells. I didn’t quite understand the nostalgia, for I had never even lived slightly near the sea as a child, nor had I ever required and profound memories at the sea. The feeling, however, seemed beyond me, almost as if not my own.

 I stood up, for the tide had begun to creep closer and closer to the point where the sea foam glided up and kissed the ends of my bare toes. Not quite ready to turn in for the night, I began to walk along the shoreline. The waves lapped at my feet and just as I had decided to turn back I noticed a peculiar silhouette approaching me from a distance. As the silhouette of the person grew closer to me I could tell it was a boy. He had broad shoulders and a boyish frame. You could see the faint glow of a cigarette as he raised it to his lips to take a drag. His hair was black and messy and seemed to perfectly frame his face. He couldn’t have been any older than sixteen for his frame was slender and his face appeared undefined. We finally met, walking past each other. There was something mystical about the boy, enthralling actually. He nodded so I knew he acknowledged my presence, but it was nothing more. It was quite a strange confrontation with dead silence, but what else did I expect? I sighed deeply not knowing exactly what I had wanted to happen. Feeling slightly disappointed I decided to go home so I could turn in for the night.

The following night I ventured out onto the beach in hope of meeting the boy again, and perhaps this time I could talk to him. I was enthralled with him for some reason that escaped me. Fall was coming and the sea breeze had begun to grow cold and brought a chilly wind inland. The icy wind blew incessantly making it uncomfortable to be outside, but I withstood it of course, because some part of me was passionately curious with the boy’s mere existence. I treaded up and down the shore, the water kissing my feet as I pressed onward. I didn’t see the boy anywhere as I had hoped I would. I decided to go home, until the strangest shape caught my eye.

About two hundred yards up the beach a figured stood before me; it was pointed on the top, but became wide at the base. I approached it cautiously only to discover the remnants of a large bonfire. A blanket lay on the ground beside the fire debris. The house it was in front of seemed old and poorly maintained. There were fresh footprints leading up to the door, but the light were out and no one was home. Whoever was staying there must had recently gone home and the condition of the house suggested it was merely a vacation house. Curious, I walked towards the house. An ashtray lay of the railing of the porch, useless, for the entire ground was littered with cigarette butts. The owners were clearly apathetic to the aesthetics of the home. It was trashed, I didn’t even feel like I was at the beach anymore, almost as if I had magically transported into another part of the world almost. I peered into the windows of the house, but the moon could only illuminate so far into the home. The furniture was tattered and looked like it had been manufactured in the early seventies.

I walked back to the bonfire site and picked up the blanket. It was damp where it had been exposed to the ocean breeze overnight. I sat down on the sand beside the pile of charred wood. It was chilly so I pulled the blanket around me, then over my head. The blanket was made of a dense, thick material so the moonlight couldn’t penetrate the fabric, leaving me overwhelmed with total darkness under the blanket. The sound of the ocean was overbearing since most of my other sense had become dulled.

 I sat in silence for a moment, taking in the beauty of the silence between the ocean and myself. As seconds passed by the noise of the ocean began to fade away into the sound of birds chirping and wind rustling leaves. I noted that the sound change was strange. I took the blanket off my head revealing that I was in fact no longer at the beach anymore, but rather I was alone in a lush green forest. It was sunny, birds chirped, and the rain water dripped from the leaves on the trees above and grazed my skin. I looked ahead of me, and there he was.

He sat upon a large boulder protruding from the ground with his legs crossed, smoking a cigarette. He put it out on the ground and smiled an awkward half smile.

“Well, hi,” he said. I didn’t really have any words to say in response though. I just stared blankly in his direction. “Ah, I see, this is pretty uncalled for, sorry, I just thought…” he trailed off.

“No, really, it’s fine,” I interrupted. I took a few steps towards him cautiously. I wasn’t afraid of him, just speechless and little awe struck to as of how all this could of happened. “How did you know?” I stammered.

“Lucky guess,” he smiled, “and now to answer your next question of how did this happen? Well, that’s for me to know and for you to find out.” I had to force a nervous laugh, apprehensive to as of what was about to happen. “The names Tristan, by the way,” he said.

“My name is-” I began.

“Aleah, I know,” he smiled and grabbed my hand and off we went deeper into the woods. The setting was unfamiliar to me; these were no woods I had ever encountered before. Shouldn’t I be slightly concerned a strange boy I had encountered only once on the beach had suddenly transported me to a random forest after I simply put a blanket over my head? My fight or flight seemed to be nonexistent, because anyone else in this situation surely would have been questioning their sanity.

We passed trees upon trees. It seemed like we were going in circles, I had no idea to as of where we were, but finally we came to an opening. The trees seemed to form a circle around an enormous tree in the center. Around the tree the sunshine shone creating an almost mystic array of light. Tristan walked up to the tree and pulled a rusty skeleton key from his pocket. He felt around the tree, feelings it’s grooves and knots, until finally he found the key hole. He inserted the key into the tree and opened a door fashioned into the trunk. He stepped through the trunk of the tree and motioned for me to follow. I stepped through, and was in another set of woods, but unlike the last forest, these were magic. Faeries flew overhead and wood nymphs danced while other creatures played joyous music on wooden instruments.

Upon seeing Tristan and I, the creatures carried on unfazed by a human’s presence. We walked in to the village center and approached a small shack. Tristan told me that it was his getaway. He opened the door to the shack and a sweet smell of burning incense wafted out. Dried herbs and Queen Anne’s lace hung from the ceiling in bundles tied with satin ribbons. I peered out of the window into the streets and noticed that the sun was setting behind the trees.

Tristan walked to the back of the shack and took two cups out of the cupboard. He sat them down on two porcelain saucers and poured tea into them.

“Here you go,” he said, smiling as he handed me a cup. “Sit down,” he beckoned, “I believe I have some explaining to do?” Before I could even begin to talk he went dove right into the conversation. “You see,” he said, “I am clearly not like the rest of the creatures here, because well, I’m a mortal, but one day while exploring in the woods when I was a kid I stumbled upon that huge tree. A strange light poured out from the sides in a door-like shape so I went up to it, and to my surprise I opened it. The faeries in here took me in and taught me many of the things I know today, and while I can’t actually preform magic, I still can use fairy enchanted things, much like the blanket,” he laughed. “Normally, I stay in my parent’s beach vacation home during much of the summer with them, but occasionally everyone needs their space, which is why I come here. However, lately the dark lord of Elvenwood has bestowed an awful curse upon the faeries, taking their magic away. While you and I are merely mortals, we can still help, and that’s why I summoned you here. Maybe it was the compassionate look you gave me when we met on the beach that made me think you would be perfect for the task, or maybe it was just how beautiful you looked under the moonlight,” he joked.

“Alright,” I laughed, “What exactly is it that I have to do?” I said.

“Well for starters, Aleah, you need to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” said Tristan. He led me up a winding spiral staircase to a bedroom. “And this is where you’ll be staying,” he pointed.

“Thanks,” I said as I walked over to the bed, recognizing the blanket on the bed to be the same one I had found on the beach.

“Now get some sleep, goodnight,” he smiled as he closed the door. I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. I pulled up the covers up to my neck and descended under the blanket, falling to sleep within seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

Morning came and the yellow sunshine illuminated my entire room. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes, where was I? Had I not fallen asleep in the room in Tristan’s shack? I was back at the beach house. I ran out of bed and onto the beach, frantically running past all the people who insisted on taking their dogs on morning walks on the beach. I approached the bonfire remains and there the blanket lay where I had once sat. I climbed underneath of it, ripping it off again, to discover I was still at the beach. I looked up to the porch of the dirty house to see Tristan standing on the front porch staring at me in horror.

 His mother opened the window of the house and yelled, “Aaron, will you please come inside and help me do the dishes?” He told her yes. His eyes were wide as he stared at me, but then he turned around and headed inside. He walked inside. I trudged back to my house, climbed back in bed and fell asleep as lonely as ever.


© Copyright 2019 mckinnonbrown. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Fantasy Short Stories