The Unfamiliar Companion
Behind him followed a nurse holding a small, cream-colored basket filled with tiny vials.
Her hair was chopped short and copper-colored, and her fingers were long and twig-like. She carried her nose in the air, barely looking at Beth, who sat on the taut, olive-colored cot.
The nurse handed Beth a mask and asked her to put it on.
The prison-striped man ordered the nurse to perform several tests.
She started a line and carefully filled several labeled vials, replacing each one in the basket as she finished. The basket had foam supports to protect each sample.
Beth watched as the little flock of vials containing her blood was whisked away.
The man bid her goodbye, snapped the door back into place, and left without another word.
Beth sat in silence.
She began counting the floor tiles.
One.
Two.
Three.
She lost count.
Then she started again.
With nothing but her thoughts to distract her, she waited for someone to return and hopefully explain what was happening.
Left alone with her thoughts, Beth wondered what they were going to do with her blood.
Then her eyes drifted toward the platter of food they had left behind.
Suddenly, it became the most enticing food she had ever seen.
Within five minutes, the entire meal had disappeared through polite chewing.
And it had tasted delicious.
Beth couldn't remember the last time she had eaten melt-in-your-mouth rare steak with green beans and potatoes.
Then she panicked.
At the same time they were taking her blood, she had suddenly become hungry enough to eat the food she had promised herself she would never put into her body.
Did they give me something?
Something that made me want to eat?
Beth stared at the empty plate.
She didn't like the thought.
The prison-coated man returned to her cell.
This time, he left the door open.
He walked toward her with his head bowed.
“Thank you for allowing me to test you.”
Beth watched him carefully.
Then he looked up.
“Bethanie, you are my daughter.”
Beth froze.
“I am the reason you will be training one of the most complex mixed humanoids of all time.”
Her head began to spin.
“I am so sorry, but I had to be sure it was you. It has been so long since I have seen you, and I have made many mistakes trying to bring you here in the past.”
Beth stared at him.
Say what?
The only dad she had ever known was her stepdad.
She took a trip down memory lane, searching through the fuzzy memories of her real father.
There were pieces.
A voice.
A face.
A feeling.
Nothing she could quite hold on to.
She was allowed to walk toward the entrance of the cave.
There, she saw walls made of fiberglass and lamps built into the sides of the man-made cavern.
The path leading to her room was beautifully designed concrete.
Suddenly, Beth saw her room differently.
It had three windowless padded walls, a locking door with a sliding meal window, restraints on the bed, and a doctor's counter with locking cabinets.
There was also a handwashing sink, paper towels, and hand sanitizer.
The room smelled like rubber bandages and insulin.
Being confused was the least of her worries.
As her father continued talking, Beth began to notice similarities between them.
They had the same tightly wound hair.
Their eyes were the same almond shape, although his were emerald green.
His eyes also had the same gem-like glow as hers.
He was a foot taller than Beth. He wasn't a giant, but he was about the same height as her brother.
Then his voice began to sound familiar.
The soft, relaxing rhythm reminded her of a voice she remembered telling her a good bedtime story.
And, most important of all, Beth felt no unease being in the room with him.
Some part of her recognized him.
Her father.
“You, Jer, and Tina are all my children.”
Beth listened.
“Your mother married your stepfather after I disappeared from prison.”
He paused.
“I created this world using many of the talents you and your siblings have to help you throughout your lives.”
Beth looked around.
“I have been trying for several years to bring one of you here.”
His expression softened.
“I’m afraid I must send you back, and you won't remember any of this, as the work you are doing in the other realm is too important.”
Beth frowned.
“Remember this clearly, and only this, Wolfaery.”
He looked directly into her eyes.
“As you know, it is our family name, and it is the key to opening the portal to this realm.”
Beth looked at him.
“Why didn't you pick me up sooner? I nearly died in a spider web out there.”
Her father nearly laughed.
“You couldn't have died. The Fuzzipies are non-venomous spiders.”
Beth stared at him.
She wasn't sure whether she should feel relieved or annoyed.
Her father gently tapped her head.
“Wolfaery.”
Beth's eyes closed.
The world disappeared.
When she woke, the strange world was gone.
The forest was gone.
The spiders were gone.
The firebird was gone.
The cave was gone.
And so was the memory of her father.
Almost.
Beth slowly sat up.
Something felt different.
She couldn't remember his face.
She couldn't remember his voice.
She couldn't remember the strange world or why she had been there.
But somewhere deep inside her mind, something remained.
A word.
A name.
A key.
Wolfaery.
Beth whispered it without knowing why.
She looked around, confused by the strange feeling that someone—or something—was missing.
She couldn't explain it.
She couldn't remember the man in the striped coat.
She couldn't remember the world he had created.
She couldn't remember the firebird, the spiders, or the enormous creatures she had encountered.
But the name remained.
Wolfaery.
And somewhere, far beyond the world she knew, something heard her say it.
