1.4. Concern

Frank turned to leave for the garden, but Angela stopped him: "By the way, a girl called for you", she said with a wink. "Her name's Mélanie. She says 'thank you' for helping her out, and she wants you to call her back."

Frank laughed and sat back down in the armchair opposite Angela. "Nice surprise", he said.
"So you're making more new friends? What happened?"
"Well, it's nothing... Some gang wars."
"Gang wars." Angela's voice was a shade darker now.

"See, she was cornered in the park earlier by three boys from Tango's gang, and I helped her out." As Angela didn't answer, Frank went on: "So you know Tango, right. He's the leader of one gang at school, and they're rivals with Patrice's gang, and Mélanie belongs to Patrice, but I'm on good terms with both leaders. We chat ever so often."
Angela didn't like the idea of Frank having contacts within Autumnfield's youth gangs. Still, she was confident, and proud, that he could easily make buddies with all kinds of kids while maintaining his own independent stance.
"Now, the other day Patrice and Tango had a big fight on the sports field and I saw them. It was rather interesting, because they sort of wrestle until one of them loses according to the rules, but I don't understand those. They do it with respect though, which is probably what makes them leaders. At any rate, I later asked Tango what it was about and apparently, it's a jewel box. Both gangs wanted it, so Patrice and Tango fought it out, and Tango lost."

"And then his gang threatens a girl from Patrice's gang to get it back?", Angela intervened. "Where's the respect in that?"
"Well that's how I got Mélanie out of the trap", Frank went on. "Tango was a gentleman about the jewel box, but his stray dogs didn't think so. So they threatened Mélanie. When I stepped in, I just showed them my PDA and explained that I could call Tango anytime and he'd see a live video of what they were up to behind his back. Seems I made the right call, because they buggered off."

"So what's in the jewel box?", Angela asked, having very well realized that Frank had failed to explain its value. "I'm sure Tango explained that to you, too."
"Well, yes, but it's not really important."
"Then you might as well tell me."
Frank hesitated.
"Okay. Okay, it has Fast Track in it."
"Fast Track?!"
"Come on Angela, it's but a light party drug."
"How do you know it's light?", Angela retorted. "They can mix it any way they want - people have killed themselves with the heavy versions! I don't understand you kids, you have no business..."
"Hey, I'm not the one taking it, okay?", Frank jumped in with some excitement in his voice.
"Fine."
"It's their business, and I'm not taking any side but mine", he continued more calmly. "She was in trouble, I helped her out."
There was a small pause before Angela spoke again.
"So, are you going to call her back?"
"I don't think so, Angela. I'm not interested in getting tangled up."

Angela thought for a moment. "And I'd prefer that, you know. I know Tyler is teaching you our fighting techniques, and we want you to be tough, but we didn't leave Bercalia just to see you get in trouble here."
"No sweat. Speaking of Tyler... Shouldn't he be back from work? Looks like his new project is consuming him."
Angela laughed, accepting her son's change of subject. "Well, that's how you two boys are, right? Once you set your mind on something, there's no stopping you."
"Right", Frank said and got up.
"Where are you off to?"

"I've got my mind set on something." He smiled, picked up his training mat and headed for the garden. Oh, yes. New fighting moves.

1.3. Interference

When Frank came home, Angela was in the living room. He knew she was there even before he saw her, for one of her smooth and mellow Jazz albums was playing. She was sitting on the sofa, browsing through her latest patient files. She was young and sportive, but Frank had adopted the habit of reminding her to sit up straight - she had an inclination to hunch over things when she was sitting, and that was what she did now: she was bent over her little computer, absorbed in her work.

When Frank entered the room, she looked up. "So, big boy, you're back. Did you get to show off?"
"In a way", Frank answered, placing his notes on the dining table. "There was a surprise... New bloke watching me. Bit alienating at first, practicing with a stranger around. But then, you already knew about that, right?"
Angela grinned. Of course she knew, her and Miss Coltrane chatted routinely, and Frank didn't doubt his mum had played her part in putting Joel's classes next to his. She was well aware that the summer holidays were getting lonely for him, so hey, why not meddle about and cough up a buddy? Peculiar though it may be - she seemed to have a hard time realizing he was maturing - Frank did appreciate the effort.
"From what Miss Coltrane said, you two could get along nicely", she explained. "And since you complained that most of your classmates had no sense for music or art..."
Gosh, wasn't that right. Their minds were barely beginning to unfold, and all they spent them on were vogue, debauchery, the telly and the blossoming urge to get inside each other's knickers. Shallow, decadent twits.
"Well, we do like the same music", Frank observed. "I was surprised he recognized 'Lumière', so we chatted a bit before I left, and he said he knew it from 'The Idea of Gentleness'. Oh, and I didn't even realize there was a novel to that film, did you? He has it and he's going to lend it to me."

The song that was playing closed in a soulful, dulcet manner, and Angela smiled in contentment.

1.2. Where's The Jewel Box?

The unyielding sun drove a layer of sweat from Frank's skin that glued his shirt to his body. Walking home, he felt the familiar call of a morbid temptation, teasing him to cross under the Roman Arch and step over to the forbidden side. But today, he eschewed it. His pace was tight in the heat as he headed home through the town's center - the straight way. Frank knew the Arch would lure him back soon enough, for beyond it lay a macabre mélange of memories and fascination.

Autumnfield's streets were nearly deserted, even in the town's centre. They were a somewhat ghostly sight under the hot sun, yet one to be expected on a midsummer afternoon: the few people that weren't at work or on vacation were in the park, strolling about or lying in the shades under the trees. In fact, Frank observed quite a lot of them as he treaded the park's neat paths.

Still, nobody seemed to notice the three boys who had cornered a girl in front of the center stone fountain. She was trapped with her back to the wall between the curved stairs at the left and right, and the boys were standing in front of her threateningly.
As he approached them, Frank could hear their voices.

"We don't care what Tango said", one of them was telling her. "Where is the damn jewel box, bitch?" His tone suggested he wasn't asking that question for the first time. Yes... Frank knew the girl. Her name was Mélanie. Then, he recognized the blokes.

"Well well well", he said, now climbing the stairs next to them and jumping down so he stood beside Mélanie. "It's Conrad Equal Chances, Jimmy The Gentleman and Danny Fair Fight. What a surprise."
"Get out of our sight, Clearwater", Conrad retorted, pointing his finger at Frank. "This is none of your business."
"Oh but I think evening the odds should be anybody's business."
"There are no odds to even. We're just having a little talk."
"Yes, I overheard. About the jewel case, no less. Isn't that interesting." Frank took a step forward, reassured by the glances that were now directed at them from people passing by. He was younger than them, yet taller and strongly built from years of exercise and sports. They stepped back.
"How the hell do you..."
Calmly, Frank produced his PDA and brought up a name on the video phone: Tango. "You see, lads. This is not about me knowing. This is about Tango knowing... What you're doing behind his back." He held up the device, his finger ready to make the call. "I'm sure he'd love to know who you're seeing."

There was a short pause as the boys pondered what to do. "Tango hears about this, and we'll knock you out", Danny threatened. "Sure you will", Frank answered.
They stared at him menacingly, then Danny said: "Let's go." And they wandered off.

"Thanks Frank", Mélanie said from behind. Frank turned around and looked at her. Her make-up was fierce as he knew it; it lined her strong, beautiful features. Though she had acknowledged being outnumbered and overpowered, Frank could tell the boys had not intimidated her. She was a tough one.

"Go home, Mélanie", he said.

1.1. Lumière

It was the summer of 2112. Autumnfield in the middle of a dry spell: in these hot days, the sun was a friendly thief of night, all the more welcome after a rainy spring. When it caressed the window sills and front porches, sending a million bright ambassadors of morning into the city and town homes, it teased people from their beds with sweet promises of brightness, warmth and days without care. It was the middle of the summer holidays. School had long taken its bow and left the stage for walks in the fields, games in the parks and dips in the lakes around Autumnfield. Many of Frank Clearwater's schoolfellows were on trips abroad with their families, but his parents couldn't afford these ventures: so Frank, at 14 years old, spent most summer days alone, fixated on his ambitions. He was out running, jumping, climbing trees, practicing fighting moves, swimming - and playing the piano.

It was Tuesday afternoon. The burning on Frank's skin matched his anticipation as he approached the Kaas school music hall: he had to show Miss Coltrane his process on "Lumière". The piano piece she had given him on Friday had inspired him enough to practice its entire first section for today. His teacher knew he liked challenges, and she usually gave him the right ones at the right time: this one particularly intrigued Frank for being a favourite of Tyler and Angela's; he had an idea of the piece, and appreciation for it, from hearing his parents play it ever so often.

His mood somewhat faded when Miss Coltrane opened the door. In the hall behind her, next to the grand piano, a boy was sitting. He seemed a couple of years older than Frank, he was slightly burly with a round face and short hair. What was that bloke doing there?

"Frank, we have a visitor today", Miss Coltrane said as she led him to the piano. Fancy that! So you have a diploma for stating the obvious, too. "This is Joel Mackay. He is a new student whom I will teach on the same days as you." Frank didn't answer, so his teacher added: "Joel came by early so I could introduce you. He lives at Fairview."

"So you're an orphan?", Frank asked him, only realizing the rudeness of his remark a bit too late. The boy nodded, but didn't answer, and Frank felt embarrassed. He didn't care much, though. After all, his presence made him a tad uneasy: the thought of being watched and listened to by a stranger while he presented works in progress alienated him.

Fair enough. Unexpected visitors shouldn't come between Miss Coltrane, the piano and him. Frank sat down. "I've done quite a bit of homework, Miss Coltrane", he said. "Then we shouldn't waste any time", she answered. "Let's hear it."

Frank merely played the first couple of notes, a bit hesitatingly too, before that chap Joel reacted. "Oh, I love this piece", he said. And he never spoke again for the duration of Frank's play. Instead, he took a deep breath, laid his head back and closed his eyes the very moment Frank gained security and the melody began to soar.

Joel drifted into the song easily and lightly. "Lumière" was a sad piece: a tale of loss and loneliness, passions and desires never fulfilled, and love forgotten. This boy Frank played it in a way that made Joel wonder whether he knew the true meaning of its words at all. Frank seemed to find great pleasure in the song's sadness, and the way he made it his own spoke to Joel: after all, what were you going to do in the face of sorrow and pain? Wasn't it the most noble endeavour to find beauty in them?

Mandy Coltrane heaved an inner sigh when Frank reached the part of "Lumière" he hadn't yet practiced. She recognized that in the past days, he had done a fair deal of work on it, much more in fact than many other of her pupils would have been willing or able to do. Still, after finishing the first section, he launched straight into the second, only to struggle with its unfamiliar notes. From time to time, Frank's alacrity and impatience became a spoke in his wheels of talent and aptness. From the corner of her eye, Mandy saw Joel return from his dreamy pose as Frank went back a step to repeat the last, failed sequence, this time with more fervour, but the same success. The first hint of frustration appeared on his face, so she stepped in. "Frank, let's stop it here. You have done some fabulous work since last Tuesday, and much more than I had expected - but you can't have it all in one go. Now that we heard what you have so far, why don't you go back to the beginning, repeat the part you know, and I'll jump in with remarks."

"Fair enough", Frank answered, easing up. "Well, you know me. Trying to force things." And she did: after all, Miss Coltrane had been his teacher for a good three years now. She was now in her early twenties, still studying music in Nova Pera and working part-time as a teacher at Kaas school, like she had when Frank first met her in 2109. She was a smallish, pudgy young woman whose rosy cheeks used to glimmer with bliss whenever it came to melodies: she shared that sentiment with Angela, and Frank remembered how quickly the spark of friendship had ignited between the two three years ago. Angela had quickly and happily agreed to afford Frank lessons with the student, and Miss Coltrane's appreciation for music had proven a fertile ground for his own ambitions from the get-go. She had long adopted the habit of nudging Frank when he reached critical points, reminding him to slow down his zeal and loosen his grip - something he rarely did by himself.

When it was time to leave, Frank turned to Joel for the first time since the beginning of the lesson. He offered him his hand to shake.

"My name is Frank."

:: Episode 1 :: It Began In Autumnfield.

Nova Pera, March 21st 2122.

My hand is unsteady as I take this note, for I find myself in deep agitation. Today, I finally got to meet my old comrade Frank Clearwater again. From the day I arrived here in Nova Pera, I had been apprehensive about how our reunion would pan out, given the choices he's made since our last goodbye, and I am glad to report he still has the candid personality I so appreciated when I fought alongside him in the war; his restless and ingenious mind still shines.

Yet, I felt the old shadow linger on this mind from the get-go. The lengths to which tragedy will drive a man: they seemed unfathomable to me before I went to see him. Little did I know about the weight of this particular man's tragedy, but today, we probably talked more than we ever have in one sitting, and he let me in on a delicate part of his past - his, and Joel Mackay's. I still shudder when I think of the meaning Joel had for Frank in his early youth, and the role his friendship played in keeping him on track during the dark times in the early 2110s. He certainly thinks a lot about it these days, and for me, with what I learned today, it cuts so much deeper to see how he got where he is now.

Even as I write these words, my suitcase is on the bed, half packed as I left it this morning. I am getting ready to depart from Nova Pera, but I know that more than many others, this place will stay with me where I go. These days, it holds a terrifying beauty: with the dawn of the decade, the architecture of a new civilization seems to sprout from the depths of the elegant slums, the dark back alleys, yes, even from the very cracks in the streets. It is about to unfold and bloom, and in due time, it will make us see the error of our ways that only now, we barely begin to grasp. They say that pain is close to pleasure, and in these days of change, Nova Pera is a fine case in point with its interweavement of darkness and delight. Add to this my visit to Frank, and my conviction is steady that with all the places I have yet to see, and people to meet, I will return to Nova Pera.

Of all the untold stories I've heard on my journeys, I feel now that this is the most powerful. And it started in mid-summer 2112 in Autumnfield. This one month, just before the traumatizing catastrophe that shook his life, and the terrible events that followd - this one month, I believe, was among the happiest in Frank Clearwater's life.

Good-bye Nova Pera, farewell Frank. We shall meet again.

-- The Traveller.