Page 24 of The Wicker King

“I think it’s trying to communicate with me,” Jack said suddenly, breaking the silence of their corner of the library.

“What do you mean?”

Jack turned over to look at him, resting his head lazily against the wall. “Remember a couple days ago when you said that thing about me being lucky that I could see these things? The way you said it got me thinking. What if you’re right and everything I see is all real? Like, what if—stop smiling, August. Oh my God, don’t make fun of me. I’m not kidding.”

August just shook his head, but he managed to stop grinning, so Jack continued.

“Like, what if this is an alternate dimension that my perception is filtering through? Like it’s a place that exists, but its existence is layered over this one. Like, it’s real, but not. What do you think?”

August chewed his lip for a while, thinking. It was a weird suggestion. But it would be better to explore it and be wrong than dismiss it and wish he hadn’t.

“Well … normally, I would say you sound like you’re going batshit. But I’m pretty sure we’re already there.”

Jack snorted. “Whatever.”

HONESTLY

Honestly, it made a bit of sense. Perception is relative. So is sanity, if you think about it. It’s totally a Minority vs. Majority thing. If you fall on one side of the line, take a ticket and proceed. If you fall on the other, shit gets real.

But anyway, this idea of Jack’s sounded fun to explore. It would be interesting to follow this world to its limits. Check the boundaries a bit. August bought a notebook so he could write down and draw what Jack saw so they could chart changes and inconsistencies.

He’d long since returned the DSM-IV to the twins, but he really wished he could get it back. Or maybe talk to someone about this. Just to check if he was on the right track with what he thought Jack had. Or to find out if letting Jack give in to all of this was dangerous.

Thank fuck for Wikipedia, Google, and WebMD.

STEP UP YOUR GAME

“Everything is ever so slightly more vivid. Or maybe what’s real is just duller. I don’t know. It’s like a photo filter. Also, not much of it is exclusively focused on me. It’s just there, relating independently with our world…” Jack rubbed his knee nervously. “Or with things outside of the picture that I don’t have access to yet. The whole thing is limited to visuals, too. Like, I can see things and touch them, but I can’t smell, hear, or taste anything. Sometimes people try to talk to me, but I can’t hear them. They always look annoyed about it and are weirdly urgent about getting me to understand.”

August was transcribing everything Jack said into the notebook. “What do they look like?”

Jack scrunched up his nose as he thought about it. “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. Weird historical clothes? Masks? They’re filthy like everyone was in the past. Honestly, it’s a bit like I’m walking through one of those towns where they make everything old-timey for tourists to come and visit.”

“That sounds … you have to be more specific.” August jabbed Jack in the side with his pencil until Jack smacked it out of his hand.

“You know what? Fine. I’ll just riffle through some cultural encyclopedias or something. It’s not like I’m already having a bad time. Now I’m seeing shit and I have stupid homework about it.” Jack threw his arms up in exasperation and turned away.

THE NOTEBOOK

They spent about a week on the notebook. August wasn’t an amazing artist, but really, that wasn’t the point. The point was to be able to reference things Jack saw. So he drew everything haphazardly in colored pencil. It was frightening how broad a selection of objects and people were present in Jack’s world but missing from August’s.

There were six people who appeared regularly. Two of the six tried to talk to Jack: a girl and some small child. The other four people just came and went randomly. There were also various animals—half of which were completely unidentifiable and very difficult to describe.

But what Jack liked the most, and what August found most interesting, were the objects. All of them were kind of old-looking, according to Jack, and he kept finding similar versions of them in the school encyclopedia, which really freaked out August.

Jack had begun collecting odds and ends from his world in the corner of his room. He put tape around the area so August wouldn’t stumble over the pile or break anything.

It didn’t seem like August could interact with anything, but they didn’t want to test that theory just yet.

LUNCH

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Gordie flicked at the back of his neck annoyingly. “Where’d you get it?”

“Jack did it a couple months ago.” August flipped up his collar so it was out of sight.

“You let someone who isn’t a licensed professional stab you multiple times instead of just going to the next town over and getting it done by someone who actually knows what they’re doing?” Alex looked horrified.

August shrugged. He could feel his ears getting hot.