He Who Is Never There, But Always Here.

• Wesley Vidler, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

“Uh, hey!” A voice reaches my ears, and I cease my aimless stumbling, to turn around to face the owner. “I’m kind of lost… Could you tell me where I am?” I cock my head to the side in an owl-like manner and stare at him blankly. “But how can you be lost when you’re Here...?” He stares at me blankly for a few seconds as if I had grown another head. I tilt my head to the other side as he opens his mouth to speak.

“But I don’t know where Here is!” He blurts out. I blink and step closer, leaning in closer.
“Here is Here. How can it be anywhere else?” The man stares at me, and his eyes tell me he thinks I’m crazy. I don’t mind. “For one to be lost, one must not know where one is. You know you are Here.” He takes a step back. They always do. “You are not There yet. So, you are Here.” His eyes seemed to hold a degree of fear, but I push on. “You are not lost. For you, are Here.” He stares at me blankly. “Uh… yeah…” I take a step back in a slow, careless manner, bare feet sliding along the soft white sand. “Where is… There?”

My head tilts to a 90 degree angle, and he seems almost disgusted, as if such angles should be impossible. I have been doing this for years; it only stands to reason that I can manage the more owl-like angles. “There is There. The end of the road, the path... I am always Here; why would I know where There is?” His eyes suddenly turn sympathetic. So, he’s finally considering that I may just be insane. Endless white sand for countless years will do that to a person, I suppose.

He stumbles away, unstable and unused to the soft sands. I shrug, and turn away, sliding over the sands with experienced feet. “If you have anymore questions, just remember; I am always Here.” He turns back for a few seconds to glance at me. “Uh, yeah… good luck with that ‘Here’ stuff and all that… I’m outta here!” He speeds up a little, and let a smile cross my face.

If he walks far enough, or long enough, he may just reach There. Or he could end up like me, stuck in Here forever. I don’t mind at all though. I’ve gone through the speech countless times, it’s almost like a ritual; breaking in the newbies or a hazing ritual if you will. I wasn’t lying though, but it stopped mattering to me. Purgatory is my home now. For I am always Here.