The St. Augustine Trilogy: Book I
Young adult, paranormal/historical
21
Doppelgangers
Lobo, his double I mean, stood next to me near a low wall, part of a grassy courtyard along both Cathedral Place and St. George Street. Above us, the cathedral’s huge bell tower stood out against the night sky bathed in floodlights.
I breathed in the cold night air and caught a brief scent of pizza. On the other side of the courtyard, nightlife in the city went along as usual. People on the sidewalk to our left strolled past slow moving cars, and shoppers wandered back and forth across traffic-free St. George Street in front of us. For a split second, everything all around me seemed almost like a dream world—unreal compared to the startlingly weird experiences I’d had that day.
“From here,” Lobo’s double said, “you can see between the trees and parked cars to the crosswalk and Flagler College.” He pointed up Cathedral Place on our left to where it dead-ended a short block away at Cordova Street with Flagler College on the other side.
I heard him, and I looked where he directed me to, but my mind was a jumble, still trying to understand the idea of human beings producing temporary duplicates of themselves—doppelgangers, Lobo’s double had called them—called himself. I wondered if the Lobo next to me would just disintegrate in a burst of little bubbles like the officer in the cathedral had? I thought my head would explode trying to figure all that out.
I even had this wild urge to yell at all the people walking around outside of the courtyard, “Do you have any idea what’s happening in my life?” but I didn’t. Instead, I kept listening to the man’s explanation.
“I’m showing you this because I have a very simple task I want you to perform. All you need to do is to exit through the gate here in the wall, go down the sidewalk to the right all the way to Cordova and cross it. Once you’re there, turn around so you can look back in this direction. I’ll be standing here so that you can see me at any time during your journey.”
“What’s this all about?”
“Just do it,” he growled, “and I assure you it will become clear very soon.”
One thing about doubles I discovered. They have the same personalities as the originals.
Breathing a sigh of exasperation and confusion, I did as he asked and walked the short distance down the street past a bank building on the right and Government House on the other side of the road to my left. On the way, I turned around a couple of times and there was Lobo, I mean his double, still standing in the cathedral courtyard.
I ran across Cordova Street avoiding traffic and onto the sidewalk in front of Flagler College. For whatever reason, that old, familiar building seemed alive, like it wanted to tell me something. With its big chains containing spiky iron balls, the place always seemed more like a castle to me than a college. The thing had been built sometime in the 1800’s as a hotel or something.
As instructed, I turned around and looked back down Cathedral Place. In the glare of oncoming one-way traffic, I saw that Lobo’s double still hadn’t moved. What I was doing standing there looking at him, I had no idea.
“What do you know, you can follow orders.” The all too familiar voice came from behind me. As I whirled around, Lobo stepped off a walkway leading to the college. I stared at him in disbelief, and without speaking, turned my head so I could look back up Cathedral Place. There was Lobo’s double right where I had left him.
“Having fun are you?” the Lobo coming from the college asked. Before I could say anything, he walked up to me, looked up Cathedral Place himself and waved. The Lobo in the courtyard did the same.
“Good God.” I kept looking back and forth between the two identical men.
“Oh, I’m another duplicate all right,” the Lobo next to me said, answering the question that had just started to form in my mind. “Want to call Carla and talk to the original to confirm it?”
Three Lobos? I couldn’t fully get my head around the idea, but I didn’t doubt its reality. “Ah … no,” I replied. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Mm. Good. Progress. This little demonstration was a wake-up call for you—a way to get you to accept the infinite possibilities possessed by the human mind, body and spirit. It looks as though we’re getting somewhere.”
“Oh, believe me, you made your point.”
A group of Spanish speaking tourists swept past us on the sidewalk all bundled up in coats and jackets. As they went by, a couple of them stared at Lobo and shook their heads, looking I’m sure, at his bare arms.
“All of the people here tonight,” the Flagler College Lobo said, pointing at the group once they were out of hearing range, “and all of the people on earth have within them wonderful abilities, paranormal and otherwise. The problem is, most of them never recognize that until they die, and even then, many of them don’t figure it out. In life, or after death, many stay stuck in their own little mental prisons, exactly like the officer who won’t let you alone did to himself after he died so long ago. They each have a key to their cell door, but they don’t realize it.
“Like all those people, you have lived in your own mental prison your whole life. Now, however, you have experienced so many unusual events you find yourself continually overwhelmed. As understandable as that is, you don’t have the time to nurse your confusion and fear. You can no longer afford to let strange occurrences like more than one Lobo throw you off track. It’s time for you to expect the unexpected, and it’s time for you to stop fighting the problems that arrive on your doorstep.
“I assure you, more are on the way and time is short. December 28 is almost here, and you, sir, will be facing the crisis of your life.”
When he finished speaking, those dark eyes of his flashed in my direction. I felt little pinpricks inside my head as if he had somehow penetrated deep into my brain—not painful but like when your arm falls asleep and you try to wake it up again. My mouth went dry and the palms of my hands started sweating, even in the cold.
“Up here,” the Lobo next to me said,” tapping me between the eyes with a big forefinger, “is where your answer lies. You have the ability to create your own reality and help that poor soldier change his. Otherwise … ” Instead of finishing what he had to say, he shrugged.
I nodded instead of saying anything. His words made sense, but I didn’t quite know how to respond. As I struggled to think of a reply, I again glanced at the other Lobo still standing by the cathedral. He waved, walked across the courtyard and entered St. George Street where I lost sight of him as he merged with all the people. When I brought my gaze back up to look at the Lobo next me, he was gone, just flat gone. He couldn’t possibly have walked off and there was no place for him to hide.
Even with noisy traffic rumbling past and tourists walking by, I stood there feeling very much alone.
###
For a brief description of The St. Augustine Trilogy, click here.
For Sliding Beneath the Surface on Amazon.com, click here
For reviews of this book, author interviews and blog tours, click here.
For the Official St. Augustine Trilogy Facebook Page, click here.
© 2011 by Doug Dillon. All rights reserved.
Add Your Comment