P Andrew Miller - After The Rainbow They think they are being quiet, that I don't hear them, but they are wrong. I hear their breath like a gale in my ears. Their footfalls like tumbling rocks, their pulses like the footsteps of giants. The question is, do I bother to stop them? They are climbing over the back fence, at the point that is farthest away from me. I am comfortable where I am and I don't want to go chase them. Two are now on this side of the fence; I hear them drop like a hammer striking an anvil. The third is stuck at the top of the fence. He must be overweight for he puffs air like a dying whale. I wonder what they are after here in a car lot. The cars are all locked and only the ones up here by the main building have accessories worth stealing. They couldn't possibly expect to steal one of the cars. Then I remember that Mr. Donahue, the owner, said that kids were breaking the crystal hood ornaments off the new Chryslers for "kicks." As the night watchman, I suppose I should stop them. I pry myself out of my chair and head for the back door. Even though I don't need it, I take a flashlight. Its light may frighten the intruders and I won't have to deal with them. I hope I don't have to chase them for I feel as old as the World Tree itself. I can see the two of them back along the fence. One girl, dressed in black, with a dark hat covering her head. But strands of red leak out of the wool cap, like embers to my eyes. She looks around, constantly shifting her head to see if anyone is coming. With her is a boy, tall, thin, also dressed in black. He has dark hair and no hat. He is trying to help the fat boy down from the top of the fence. His black sweat pants are snagged on the wire. I walk slowly through the orderly rows of cars, avoiding puddles scattered across the blacktop lot. I flick on the flashlight and shine it at them, impaling the fat one on its beam. He blinks and all color spills from his face. "Shit," the girl whispers. "Get out of here. Go up there and help Leo get down. I'll keep the guard busy." The thin boy clatters up the chain fence, makes it rattle like ice chipping off a cliff. In a moment he is at the top, and then over. He sticks his feet in between the links and works Leo free. The girl has run deeper into the lot. She hides behind a red New Yorker. I can hear her breathing like the winds of Jotunheim. The thin one frees Leo and yanks him down. They drop on the other side of the fence and start running. They don't even try to be quiet, though it would make no difference if they did. The girl moves to the right, behind a silver car. She is still crouching low, below the roof level of the automobiles. She moves quickly, now behind a blue and then another red. Her sneakers rasp against the blacktop. I turn the flashlight in her direction and catch her in its light as she goes between rows. She stops, frozen as if her lack of movement would make her invisible. She stares at me and green eyes shine like a cat's in the light. I hold her in the light for a full minute. She stays immobile, like a creature of ice. But her heart beats faster, like the hooves of the reindeer across the land. I turn off my light. She stays just as still. "You can leave," I say. Her heart slows down a bit, and she shifts her left foot a half an inch. "I said you can leave." She stands up and looks at me. "Why?" she asks. "It isn't worth the bother," I answer. "You didn't take anything or break anything and I don't want to chase you. I am too old and you are too young. We could be at these games all night. And none of it really matters." I turn and walk back towards the building. I know she has not moved, for I hear no footsteps. Then she turns and runs to the fence, clambering over it to drop in the grass. She runs off, her footsteps pounding like Sleipner's many hooves. * * * * * Two hours past dawn, I am relieved of my duties by the arriving salesman and mechanics. I walk the three miles to my apartment. I used to think it ironic that I did not own a car but now I can no longer appreciate irony. I hate the walk to my apartment and the day with all its noises. The thumping of car tires against the road, the slapping of feet against sidewalks, the electronic beeps of the cash registers as I pass by the stores. It has taken me years to tune out the louder noises of horns and squealing brakes. But the little noises echo through my mind as in the caverns of Hel. And though my apartment is a gray hole, it is a relief from the din of the outside. When I first moved in I had it soundproofed. I can still here the noises but they are bearable. This morning, however, my colorless room does not relieve me. I walk in and close the door. There are no windows, no light. I don't need either. The walls are painted an off white, the one chair and bed gray. The small kitchenette I hardly use and the refrigerator are a pale yellow. The drabness, like the soundproofing, used to be a relief. It gave my eyes a chance to rest after the garish colors of outside. Now I realize that it is all gray and I miss the color. Color used to be all around me, reds and oranges that burned brighter than any fire, yellows that outshone the sun, greens that no earthly blade of grass could match, blues that made the sky and the oceans gray, indigos deeper and richer than the veils of night, and violets that no poet could describe. It is gone now, shattered, dead. A sound like waves crashing against rocks interrupts me and I realize it is my tears hitting the floor. * * * * * I go to work tonight, though I don't know why I bother. A force of habit, or remnants of my sense of duty that is more outmoded than I am. It does not matter; I am here. But perhaps it is time for me to die as well. To vanish like Bifrost. To scatter in the wind. That is what I'm thinking slightly after midnight when I hear the footsteps approaching the back fence. I hear the grass spring up after she passes, the leather jacket rub slightly against her denim pants. I hear her breathing and heart beat. It is the same girl who was here last night. She is still some fifty yards away from the back fence and though there is a skunk about thirty feet to her left, she is alone. Leo and the thin one are not with her tonight. Why has she come back? I thought that last night would have frightened her. But I can tell she isn't afraid. She may have the spirit of Valhalla in her. She is still approaching and I leave the office and go to meet her. I walk to the back fence and stand by one of the cars. I can see her now. She wears the same garments as the night before. She walks up to the fence and slowly begins to climb. The fence quivers with the slightest rattle that I could hear from miles away. She makes her way up the fence and easily clears the top. She hangs for a moment and drops to the ground. She turns and finds me standing there. She gasps and steps back. She could not have seen me last night as I had blinded her with my light. But tonight her eyes are clear and she sees before her a man seven feet tall. I am broad and my beard, now graying, hangs down to my chest. I suppose I could be frightening. "Good evening," I say. "How did you know? You couldn't possibly have heard me," she says. I allow myself to smile. "But I did hear you. You are lucky you didn't go near the skunk." She looks over her shoulder then turns back to me. "I thought for sure it was Leo and Frank that gave us away last night," she says. She is still not afraid. She looks up at me. A few strands of her red hair are visible on her pale forehead. I like this girl. She reminds me of the Valkryies, with her bravado and fiery attitude. I rarely find anyone with a warrior's spirit. "Come with me," I say and turn back towards the building. "Are you gong to turn me in?" Now her pulse increases. "No," I answer. "What's keeping me from running away?" "Nothing." She has not moved though I am now several feet in front of her. I don't slowdown. She scuffs her shoes a little and then follows me. I'm glad. She is only a step behind me when we reach the office. I go in and move some papers so she will have a seat. She stands in the doorway. "Do you think you could turn on the lights?" she asks. I forget that not everyone shares my sight. I pull the metal chain and a single bulb illuminates the room. My eyes adjust immediately but she blinks. "Would you like to sit down?" I ask her. She moves to the chair I have cleared. I sit on a stool facing her. "Do your parents know where you are?" She snorts. "They don't know anything. And couldn't bother." I hear no self pity in her voice and she doesn't look away. Her green eyes remain locked onto my own gray. "What are you called?" I ask. "You mean ny name? Sarah, Sarah Prescott. What's yours?" "I am called Heimdall." "That's a weird name." "Not where I come from." "Where's that?" She does not realize what she has just asked. But then, why should she? I stare at her, deciding what I should tell her. She takes off her hat and her red hair falls down upon her shoulders. It is longer than I would have guessed and more beautiful. Though it does not compare with Sif's golden tresses, its color is bright in this dingy room. The red of her hair, the green of her eyes, remind me of Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge. It has been so long since I had someone to talk to, I decide to tell her the truth. So, I tell her of Asgard with its high stone walls and how Odin tricked the giant into building them. I tell her of the great hall of Valhalla and the feasting of the warriors that went on under its roof. I tell her about watching Thor battle the Frost Giants among the icy mountians of Jotunheim. I tell her how Frey lost his sword for the love of a woman. I tell her of Iduna and her golden apples. I tell her of Loki and how he ended the beauty of Balder. And I tell her about Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge connecting Midgard to Asgard and how I was the warder of the Bridge. I tell her of its glorious colors. She stares at me through all my tales and there is a smile on her face. When I finish, I notice she is yawning. I have forgotten that she may need sleep even if I don't. She stifles a yawn and grins at me. "It sounds wonderful, beautiful," she says and I think she actually believes me. "What happened? Why did you leave?" The colors in my memory die. She realizes she has asked the wrong question but I also know I must answer it. "It had always been prophesied that we would die in battle, Asgardians and Vanir against the Frost Giants and Surtur and the other monsters. The day of the great battle approached, Ragnarok came. We went to the field of battle. We were alone. The Giants did not come. Surtur did not show. The Midgard Serpent and Fenris did appear. "We felt our destiny slip away from us. We lived for battle, to die in battle. We would not be cheated. We went into Jontunheim to find them. We traveled to Muspelheim. Nowhere could they be found. And while we were gone, looking, they destroyed Asgard. It was set afire, burned to the root of the World Tree. "Some of us walked into the fires, not wanting to live. But some of us could not die without a fight. We went down Bifrost to Midgard, here to earth. Behind us, Bifrost shattered into shards of color, then vanished." She doesn't say anything after I finish and I find that I can no longer meet her gaze. Instead, I stare at the floor. "So, instead of watching the Bridge, your watching cars? Old habits die hard, huh?" She is standing again. She pulls her hat down over her head. I look at her. She goes to the door and then turns her head. "I'm sorry," she says and then leaves. I listen as her footfalls sound off into the distance. * * * * * Once more it is near midnight and I hear Sarah approaching. She is trying to be even quieter than normal and imitate natural sounds as she walks. Of course, I can tell the difference, besides the fact that few woodland creatures smell like shampoo. Though she does get closer tonight than she did last night before I catch her. I meet her at the fence. She is smiling. "Well, how about another story? Tell me more about Thor." She climbs the fence and we go back to my office. I had a feeling she would come again tonight and I brought instant cocoa for us to drink. While we sip at our steaming mugs, I tell her of Thor's fishing trip and how he hooked Jorgumund, the Midgard Serpent. Sarah enjoys the cocoa and the story. When we finish, I escort her back to the fence. "You know, I'll keep trying Heimdall. And one day, you'll see, I'll sneak up on you." I laugh. "I'll buy more cocoa." She scampers over the fence and jogs across the grass. I turn and walk back through the cars. They are red and green and gold and blue and in some ways they resemble a rainbow. - - - P Andrew Miller - After The Rainbow m1nion scan #7 - - - m1nion scan #1: Sandman - Death The High Cost Of Living m1nion scan #2: Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of The War Of The Worlds m1nion scan #3: Everything But The Girl (Article from Arena Magazine) m1nion scan #4: J Gregory Keyes - The Python King's Treasure m1nion scan #5: Jack Russell - Channel 666 m1nion scan #6: Bill Randolph - The Sacrifice