To Arkham

Few nights ago, 330 and I watched “Doctor Who: The End of Time”. I’ll be honest: I cried like a baby at that ending. Even 330 looked like she was getting a little misty eyed. Asked her when we could start on the next season, but she said she hadn’t ordered anything past David Tennant’s run as the Doctor. Kind of a shame.

Oh. Um. I should probably also mention that I’ve started calling I-330 just 330. It’s, well, a bit easier to say, I guess. Faster, at least.


A few days after we watched the movie, 330 woke me up by throwing open the door to my room, tossing a bag on my bed, and telling me to pack up, we’re heading for Massachusetts.

What.

She explained it to me in more detail over a cup of coffee once I was more awake. She’d managed to finish translating the scroll; apparently it’s a bunch of excerpts from a book whose name I won’t even try to spell. The only place where we can find a full copy of said book is at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts.

Okay. So… why do we need to find this book, 330?
Just following the trail of breadcrumbs, Lisa.
Alright, that still doesn’t explain anything. How are we getting to Massachusetts?
We’ll get on a train at Alexandria, and head north.
How are we getting to Alexandria? That’s about 10 miles away.
Well guess what, Lisa? I got you a bike!
I don’t know how to ride a bike….
Don’t worry, it’s easy. You’ll figure it out in no time.


Well, now that I’m able to say I have tried to ride a bike, I can state with full confidence that 330 is a liar. My jeans were ripped, knees and hands bloody, and I felt like I was going to collapse from exhaustion. Less than a fourth of the way to Alexandria. 330 took pity on me, and wrapped my leg. Good thing she’d thought to bring bandages with her.

So then we did the smart thing, and caught a bus to Alexandria.

The train ride was several hours long; by the end of the first hour, 330 started getting fidgety. It’s definitely the longest I’ve seen her forced to stay in one place before. So it was a good thing I thought ahead to bring books for us to read. That got her to stay still, though by the end of the trip she’d gone through over half the novels I’d brought….

When we got off at the Arkham stop a man was waiting for us, who waved and called for 330 when he saw her. She ran over and gave him a hug, then the two started with a series of friendly greetings. “It’s been ages since I saw you! How’ve you been?” and so on. I don’t think he even noticed I was there until 330 introduced me. “Lisa, I’d like you to meet my old friend, Peter. He works as a professor at Miskatonic.”

Peter looked like someone in their 30s or 40s; bit hard to tell. His face looked younger than the graying strands going through his brown hair seemed to indicate. I tried to mutter a greeting; don’t know if I was really all that successful. If I wasn’t, at least he was nice enough not to comment on it….

The two talked the whole time as we walked to Peter’s car and loaded our bikes and luggage in. Mostly Peter discussing how his job’s been going; learned that he works in the history department. For someone apparently meeting a friend for the first time in years, 330 did surprisingly little talking about what she’d been up to. The only hints at that was Peter asking, “You still running around doing the same crazy stuff?” She laughed and nodded, and that was the end of it.

Since the train ride had taken up most of the day, 330 and I were going to be staying at his house, where he had a few extra beds. I… wasn’t all that comfortable with the idea at first…. I haven’t slept anywhere but in my house for years….

The whole drive to his house wasn’t very fun, either…. 330 and Peter were talking to each other the whole time, and I just sat in the back seat, quiet. Kinda felt a bit left out…. But why should I have expected otherwise; this is someone 330’s known for a long time, and I’m just someone she met a few months ago….

Not that I want to sound like they were being mean or anything! Peter was very polite as he showed me the room I’d be staying in, helped move my bags inside, and asked if there was anything I needed…. But as it got later at night, and I could hear the two of them talking so enthusiastically in the living room, I began to wonder why I had been brought along….

I… was kinda curious… about what sort of things 330 would reminisce about. So I snuck out of my room and eavesdropped on the conversation….

“…so after lugging that box all the way across the city, we get to the place where Septimus had told us to go. So we were waiting there, looking around, didn’t see anyone…. And he suddenly says, ‘Oh, wait guys, I had the map upside down this entire time.’ All nonchalant! How do you hold a map upside down?” That was Peter’s voice.
Both of them started laughing, then 330 said, “And I just knew he was going to do that! I even put arrows saying ‘This Way Up’ on the map before I gave it to him!” Both started laughing again. Gradually, the laughter died down, and when 330 started talking again, she was much quiet. Had to strain to hear her. “Shame what happened to him….”
“Yeah…. He was a good guy. Didn’t deserve that….”
Another long silence, which 330 broke. “I should have been there….”
“What?” Peter’s voice again, “Christ, I-330, you’re still blaming yourself for that? That was decades ago!”

I don’t know what she said to him, because I left then. Their conversation was sounding a lot more personal than I felt entitled to hear.
Also…. There was a little bit of guilt I was trying to fight against. Not guilt from listening to their conversation…. But in that moment, when I heard Peter say I-330 instead of 330…. I felt almost like I’d beaten him at something, that I could call her something that someone who’d known her for years didn’t…. Don’t know why…. But I got back to my room and started writing this post, trying to get a better hold on my thoughts. Can’t say if it’s worked, really….

-Lisa


Wait, he said decades ago. 330’s at most just two or three years older than me, and I’m only in my twenties…. Just a misused expression? Or I misheard him?