Walter Wallace: Chapter 33

Stevie sat in the back of an ambulance with his shoulders slumped from exhaustion, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. He didn’t usually smoke but he had inhaled so much today he figured he may as well get some of the good stuff while he was at it. He stared back down the hill at the smouldering terminal. The building had further collapsed and now it was sealed off as all carriages had been searched for life and the dead were left as the structure threatened to completely collapse at any moment. The smoke that still rose made the setting Sun hazy in the distance, as though it were a mirage on a desert horizon. Scattered along the hill there was still a strong gathering of reporters and cameras though a sizable chunk had disappeared trailing the two ambulances that had taken Walter Wallace and Lucy Blues away.

Stevie hadn’t yet had time to decipher the whole situation. It would be a juggling act of chance and convenience. Both of which offered little to the reasonable doubt he was bound to. But more intriguing still was the presence of fate. Stevie was a spiritual man – he based his thesis on Eastern philosophy in Western medicine – but he never believed in any voodoo claims such as greater beings and destiny. But then how could he accept the fact that Walter Wallace had strode into an inferno and rescued the woman who had plucked him from obscurity. This doctor had disappeared weeks ago to the point that the network was embarrassed to admit they knew nothing of her whereabouts. Now, like some fairytale, these two meet and...and if he were to succumb to such theories then what should he make of his own chance encounter with the man in question. Was there some force drawing the two together? Ridiculous, surely. Stevie took another long drag from his cigarette and let his mind clear again.

Walter Wallace: Chapter 32

Walter jumped out of the Channel 8 van and ran towards the wreckage at Newport Haven Terminal. Angela called out to him but it was lost in the muffled cacophony of panic that sounded as though it were emanating from a seashell held up close to his ear. His vision was blurry as he dashed and ducked between the people but he felt all his senses focussed and tuned in to the exact location he wanted to be. It was similar to the sensation of anger he felt the morning after speaking to William Unston but he had no time to decipher or distinguish meaning from this connection.

Hordes of reporters were standing with their backs to the scene, facing their respective cameras and reporting on the crises. Police were still trying to seal off the area and firemen were gearing up for entry into the large complex. Walter couldn’t see any fire but a large plume of smoke rose from the rooftop. He couldn’t be sure from his vantage point but it appeared as though part of the roof had caved in. Three of train’s carriages poked out of the entry to the station, disfigured into metallic S shapes, the windows blown out.

He tried to grasp why that scene looked so peculiar but before he had a chance to consider it a policeman stopped him in his tracks, almost catching him as he flew down the hill towards the station.

“You can’t go in there!”

“We have to! There are people in there! We have to help!”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m Walter Wallace! Let me past.” He didn’t know why he said it, but it seemed to have the desired effect. The officer stepped back, unsure how to react. Walter took the chance to duck by, but the moment he did an explosion went off inside the building and knocked them both off their feet.

Walter Wallace - Chapter 31

The sky was clear as the Sun began to make an impression on the highest peaks of the Silver Mountains. The stars had all but bid farewell as the approaching dawn called out to the morning birds. They called back in song, relaying the pleasant wake up call to the other creatures in the nearby wood. Lucy was already awake, hugging a hot mug of tea against the lingering chill of an early spring night. The Sun would soon stretch down the mountains and bring the comfort of warmth and light, and Lucy loved nothing more than to feel it kiss her face and fill her with energy for the new day.

Every day had felt like a new day for Lucy now. She had escaped her previous life, retreating to the isolation of her father’s old cottage. He had told her so many times that she ought to take a break from her lifestyle; that the cottage might not have the flair of her inner city apartment but it would help her clear her wonderful mind. He was right about the flair: the electricity was temperamental, the only phone was a landline that had a constant buzz and the nearest town was a 30 minute drive along an unpaved road.

But in the aftermath of her break down she had known no other option. She couldn’t call her father to hear his words of wisdom; he had passed away 18 months ago. He was so capable of calming her when she became overwhelmed. All those long nights slaving over the machine and pouring her every hope and desire and sanity into it, her father had always been her rock. She could always rely on his advice so now she finally took the one piece she could remember.

Walter Wallace - Chapter 30

Walter was getting the hang of this. Like most things, being in front of an audience was daunting at first, but through persistence he grew comfortable and found himself. It was just like one of the really tough crossword puzzles where the discarded newspaper or magazine was old and tattered and had sections of the clues faded or torn out and he had to be patient and open to the possibilities. He had even used this analogy recently in the second stop on his national tour and after the show one of the producers or publicists approached him with the idea to release a crossword book with his face on the cover. He agreed and the next day a printed version was given to him as a gift. Crosswords for Cross Minds: The Happy Puzzle. He opened it up and found that he had written the foreword. It was the quote from his interview.

“We have 20,000 more printing as we speak. We expect that they will sell out by the end of the week.” The female executive/producer/crossword puzzle publisher said.

“Quick.” He replied, honestly as ever.

“The idea was brewing in me a while, I just needed a selling angle and you gave it to me last night.”

“Glad I could help,” Walter said smiling. She smiled back. Walter was becoming increasingly aware of his ability to make people smile. He supposed it had always happened; he had just never had so many chances to exact it. Sure, at the moment he was mainly just managing to make executives smile about the millions of dollars in revenue he was generating for them, but he also got to interact with millions of people and felt that was his true purpose.