Knight in Real Life:
Part Four, Unraveling
Bethany arrived out of breath at the elevator. A crowd of Greeks piled into the elevator ahead of her. She cursed herself for not caring to learn the locations of the emergency stairways after two years.
Her brain failed her as she goaded it into sketching out a floorplan of the aisles she knew. Unfortunately, most of what she knew lay downstairs, in the Reference section, or two stories above in the British Criticism section.
Then the doors parted and Paul stumbled out, eyes closing as he settled into a new song pumping through his earbuds.
“Hey!” Bethany’s exclamation drew eyes from all corners of the ground floor. She did not car. Grabbing his shoulder and plucking one of the Skrillex tunes loose, she hissed at Paul’s levying eyes. “Where is he?”
Paul yawned. “What?” As he shifted his bag to one shoulder his pack crinkled with empty aluminum canisters.
“Did you finish all those energy drinks by yourself?” Bethany snapped.
“No, ‘course not. Your big buddy had some.” Paul’s eyes slowly widened. “My bad, I must have spaced. Did you see him upstairs?”
Bethany ignored the stupid question and yanked Paul out of the main floor library by his backpack straps. Once outside she let go abruptly, and Paul spun and fell back against the building, onto his empty energy drink cans.
“You, modern man, are accustomed to the chemicals in energy drinks,” Bethany said. “They don’t affect you – they seem to have the opposite intended effect.”
“You mean –”
“Yep. You let loose a medieval monster.”
“He seemed so tired.”
“Maybe time travel does that. And why didn’t you just let him sleep?”
“He was…”
“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it snoring. It was what a tractor and a lion would make it they, well –”
“I’m not interested in your theories, Paul Bjorn.” In a swift movement she took off her backpack and yanked out her notebook.
The gauntlet clattered on the patio tiles. Paul flinched back as though she were about to throw it at him.
Bethany opened to a folded age and read out loud: “Return to the place you were before, to the time that was before.”
“Sounds pretty, Beth, but I don’t see how it fits.” A sulking note had entered Paul’s voice.
“Don’t you see? I guess you don’t; I remember something like this from ‘The Dyed Robe’.”
“But where did you get this? Sounds – I guess the word’s ‘modern’.”
“Seminar. It pays to go to class.” Bethany stooped to pick up the gauntlet, but stopped and straightened. “No, actually…it’s funny, but Professor Rycliffe said something like that today.”
“Huh. But I don’t see how that’s helpful. Time and what, so what? We know he’s out of time and place.”
“No time to explain. Go across the street, get me a coffee.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t care!” Bethany lowered her voice as she saw other students looking at them. When they were walking away, she bent to snatch up the discarded armor and stuff it in her bag. She muttered, “We can’t waste time. He’s probably terrorizing a tour group by now.”
“More like entertaining them.”
“Go! I’ll meet you back at my apartment. And for all that is holy, don’t go clomping up the stairs and wake Lisa.”
“She still misses me, huh?”
“Less than you think.” She fed him the address and they parted toward each of their tasks.
Her brain failed her as she goaded it into sketching out a floorplan of the aisles she knew. Unfortunately, most of what she knew lay downstairs, in the Reference section, or two stories above in the British Criticism section.
Then the doors parted and Paul stumbled out, eyes closing as he settled into a new song pumping through his earbuds.
“Hey!” Bethany’s exclamation drew eyes from all corners of the ground floor. She did not car. Grabbing his shoulder and plucking one of the Skrillex tunes loose, she hissed at Paul’s levying eyes. “Where is he?”
Paul yawned. “What?” As he shifted his bag to one shoulder his pack crinkled with empty aluminum canisters.
“Did you finish all those energy drinks by yourself?” Bethany snapped.
“No, ‘course not. Your big buddy had some.” Paul’s eyes slowly widened. “My bad, I must have spaced. Did you see him upstairs?”
Bethany ignored the stupid question and yanked Paul out of the main floor library by his backpack straps. Once outside she let go abruptly, and Paul spun and fell back against the building, onto his empty energy drink cans.
“You, modern man, are accustomed to the chemicals in energy drinks,” Bethany said. “They don’t affect you – they seem to have the opposite intended effect.”
“You mean –”
“Yep. You let loose a medieval monster.”
“He seemed so tired.”
“Maybe time travel does that. And why didn’t you just let him sleep?”
“He was…”
“Yes?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it snoring. It was what a tractor and a lion would make it they, well –”
“I’m not interested in your theories, Paul Bjorn.” In a swift movement she took off her backpack and yanked out her notebook.
The gauntlet clattered on the patio tiles. Paul flinched back as though she were about to throw it at him.
Bethany opened to a folded age and read out loud: “Return to the place you were before, to the time that was before.”
“Sounds pretty, Beth, but I don’t see how it fits.” A sulking note had entered Paul’s voice.
“Don’t you see? I guess you don’t; I remember something like this from ‘The Dyed Robe’.”
“But where did you get this? Sounds – I guess the word’s ‘modern’.”
“Seminar. It pays to go to class.” Bethany stooped to pick up the gauntlet, but stopped and straightened. “No, actually…it’s funny, but Professor Rycliffe said something like that today.”
“Huh. But I don’t see how that’s helpful. Time and what, so what? We know he’s out of time and place.”
“No time to explain. Go across the street, get me a coffee.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t care!” Bethany lowered her voice as she saw other students looking at them. When they were walking away, she bent to snatch up the discarded armor and stuff it in her bag. She muttered, “We can’t waste time. He’s probably terrorizing a tour group by now.”
“More like entertaining them.”
“Go! I’ll meet you back at my apartment. And for all that is holy, don’t go clomping up the stairs and wake Lisa.”
“She still misses me, huh?”
“Less than you think.” She fed him the address and they parted toward each of their tasks.
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