Walk the Road - The Iron Writer Challenge #80

I signed up for the Iron Writer challenge and was assigned to challenge #80. (See The Iron Writer #80.) After the challenge was over, I got really busy and didn't notice when the stories were posted to the web site, and only got one vote. The top vote-getter got 11 votes.

Anyway, I wanted to share a bit on how I got to the story I wrote, and since it's short, include the first drafts as well.

The elements we were given that needed to be incorporated into the story were the Peel Trident car, Furby, Dr. Pepper, and a lost emperor. At first I hated the list. "Ridiculous elements!" I thought. So for a while after getting the list, I set it aside.

Then I did some research on each and, after discovering the Peel Trident came from the 1960s, when each one came about. The first two were 16 years apart. Then 32. I continued the pattern, and incorporated that into my story.

First Draft (1,063 words)

Ian stared at the passing countryside and listened to the hum of the bullet train as it sped toward Tokyo. His reverie was broken as a train moving in the opposite direction blurred past. He shook his head and looked again at the invitation he held. It was from Emperor Akihito himself.

“Put it away,” his wife Kumiko told him in Japanese. He looked at her, then around at the other passengers, all Japanese. He was the only westerner in the train car. Nodding, he slid the invitation into his coat pocket. Before he could turn toward the window again, she asked, “How do you know Emperor Akihito?”

“I knew his son. At Oxford in the '80s. He's who got me interested in Japanese culture. That was years ago.”

Kumiko said, “The Trout Inn?”

Ian smiled and nodded. “You remember.”

The train slowed, and Ian held Kumiko's hand, excited for what was to come.

Together they exited the train and made their way to the Imperial Palace, where they were greeted personally by one of the Emperor's advisors. He escorted them through the winding corridors of the emperor's private residence. Kumiko's eyes were wide with wonder at every turn.

They waited in a large, official-looking room, the scent of incense heavy in the air, for several moments while their guide announced them in an adjoining room. He returned and beckoned them to follow. In the smaller room was a bed covered in pillows. Emperor Akihito lay in the middle of the bed, looking much smaller than Ian remembered. He still wore a suit, as though he dressed for some important visitor. His familiar, endearing smile appeared briefly. He nodded as though bowing, and with a faint cough, motioned Ian forward.

“Been a while,” Akihito said in Japanese. “Why no visit?” He gave a faint chuckle.

“What can I do for you?”

Akihito sighed. “I'm glad you came. Please, talk with Shigeru.” Akihito motioned at the man standing on the other side of the bed, then rested his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

Shigeru bowed, which Ian returned. “This way.”

They followed Shigeru through the estate and into a separate building. The inside looked like a museum, displaying a diverse collection of artifacts, most behind or under glass.

“This place looks like a museum,” said Kumiko.

From the front of the room, Shigeru said, “Naruhito is missing. He was last seen in this room. We believe you can find him. He left you this.”

Ian took a scroll of paper from Shigeru and read it. Written in English, it said, “Ian, I found the road back. Ask Fabi.” “That's not possible,” Ian said. He looked around a moment, then asked, “Are there any other pieces Naruhito collected?”

“This way,” said Shigeru, leading Ian into another large room.

Ian looked around. In the center of the room on a narrow pedestal was a bronze plaque with a quote from Naruhito himself. It said, “I have had a keen interest in roads since childhood. On roads you can go to the unknown world."

Behind it there was a tiny – even by Japanese standards – red car labeled “PEEL” on a giant black sticker across the front bumper, and a three pronged icon between the headlights. He brought out his phone and searched for “Peel car.” Immediately an image of the car in front of him came up. “A Peel Trident.”

He opened the only door, which opened the car like a red Swingline stapler, and found a newspaper on the seat. He picked it up and unfolded it. The title proudly proclaimed The Hartford Courant. Ian's eyes went wide as he read the date out loud: “Saturday, August 28^th, 1902.” It was in pristine condition! The first story was about President Roosevelt being the guest of the city, and driving his own car on his visit.

Ian turned the page and a photograph fluttered out. He picked it up and was surprised to see Naruhito the subject of the vintage photograph, and standing next to President Roosevelt! They were both holding bottles of Dr Pepper and smiling. “What did you get into?” asked Ian with the wonder of a child.

Across the room, sitting on a chair that sat next to an archway leading down into darkness was a small plush toy. It looked like an owl. Ian looked once more at the note left for him by Naruhito that said, “Ask Fabi.” “Furby?” he wondered aloud.

Before he could traverse the room and inspect the toy closer, someone came into the room and whispered to Shigeru. Ian watched as Shigeru visibly slumped. He nodded and the other man left. “Now you must leave with me. The Emperor has died.”

“What? No!” Ian protested. “If the Emperor is dead, that means Naruhito is the new Emperor. I need to find him!”

“He is not here.”

“I don't think he's gone far,” said Ian. With renewed enthusiasm, he walked to the Furby in the chair. “Hello, Furby.”

Ian was shocked to hear Naruhito's voice come from the toy's speaker. “Name the year and walk the road.”

Ian thought back to the newspaper. “1902?” Furby sang a song. He was wrong.

“Name the year and walk the road.”

Ian took out his phone once more. He looked up Furby. He looked up the Peel Trident. He looked up Dr Pepper, and Roosevelt's visit to Hartford. He studied each, taking notes. When Naruhito-Furby said, “Name the year and walk the road,” Ian wrote them in chronological order: Furby, The Peel Trident, 1902. He grabbed the registration on the car. It was from 1966. Furby was first made in 1998. He squatted next to the chair the Furby sat on and mumbled his way through some quick calculations. “2014 to 1998 is 16 years; 1998 to 1966 is 32 years; 1966 to 1902 is 64 years. 128 years before that would be...” He stood up. “1774!”

The Furby emitted a gleeful, “Ha HA!”

Ian wasn't sure what changed on the walkway, but it looked subtly different to him. He looked back at Kumiko and Shigeru and said, “I'll be right back.” Then he turned and walked down the walkway. “I'm not sure where you are, my lost Emperor, but I'm going to bring you back.”

Walk the Road - Final Draft

Ian, the only westerner in the Imperial Palace, straightened his suit as a palace official approached. Ian showed his invitation. The official bowed and said in Japanese, “I am Shigeru. This way.” Ian was escorted through the winding corridors of the Emperor's private residence, his eyes wide with wonder at every turn.

“How do you know Emperor Akihito?”

“His son and I attended Oxford together in the '80s. Although we first met at 'The Trout Inn' pub, he taught me Japanese culture.”

Moments later, they stood in a small room containing a bed covered in pillows, heavy with the scent of incense. Akihito lay on the bed, looking frailer than Ian remembered. His familiar, endearing smile flashed, then faded. He mocked a bow, and with a faint cough, motioned Ian forward.

“Been a while,” Akihito whispered in Japanese. “Why no visit?” A faint chuckle.

“Tenno.” Ian bowed. “How can I help you?”

Akihito sighed, weary. “Glad you came.” He rested his head, eyes closed. “Shigeru will show you.”

They walked to a separate building that held a diverse collection of artifacts, most behind or under glass. “This place looks like a museum,” said Ian.

“Naruhito was last here. Now he's missing. He left this.”

Shigeru handed Ian a scroll of paper. Written in English, it said: Ian, I found the road back. Ask Fabi.

“That's impossible,” Ian said. He explored the room. In the center stood a narrow pedestal with a bronze plaque: On roads you can go to the unknown world. – Naruhito

Behind it was a tiny – even by Japanese standards – red car. “Is that a Peel Trident?” He pulled the only door, which opened the car like a red Swingline stapler, revealing a newspaper on the seat. He unfolded The Hartford Courant. A vintage photograph fluttered out. Ian retrieved it while reading the newspaper. “Saturday, August 30^th, 1902. President Roosevelt a guest of the city. Pristine!”

The photograph showed Naruhito standing with Roosevelt! They were smiling, holding bottles of Dr Pepper. His mouth gaped! “How did you get there?”

Across the room, a chair sat beside an archway leading down into darkness. On it was a small, owl-like plush toy. Naruhito's note said ask Fabi. “Furby?” he wondered.

Just then someone entered and whispered to Shigeru. Shigeru's shoulders slumped. He said, “The Emperor has died.”

“What? No!” Ian cried. Then, “Naruhito is now Emperor!”

“He's gone.”

“But not far.” Renewed enthusiasm quickened his steps. “Hello, Furby.”

Naruhito's voice replied from the toy: “Name the year. Walk the road.”

Ian thought back to the newspaper. “1902?” Furby sang a song. Wrong answer!

Ian looked up each item in the room. When Naruhito-Furby said, “Name the year. Walk the road,” Ian put them in chronological order: Furby, 1998. The Peel Trident, 1966. The newspaper, 1902. He mumbled his way through some quick calculations. “2014 to 1998, 16 years; 1966, 32; 1902, 64. Subtract 128...”

“1774!”

Furby emitted a gleeful, “Ha HA!”

The arched walkway looked subtly different to him. He said, “I'll be right back,” then walked through. “I'm not sure where you are, my lost Emperor, but I'll bring you back.”