THE PILGRIMAGE: A Farthingdale Story

EveningStar

EveningStar

Mage Scribe
Staff member
Knight of the Noble Order
Royal Guard
This story was written for my good friend Joseph (Copperfox) and allows two characters of his creation to enter the Realm of Farthingdale that was featured in "The Visitor".

It is, to the best of my knowledge, fully keeping in canon with the original. There will be other Realm stories in the future that explore other branches of Extended Creation. Please let me know what you think.
 
THE PILGRIMAGE​

Or​

There and Back Again



PRELUDE​

Once upon a time there was a child named Karl; a child whom time and tides stole bit by bit and left in his place someone who was not childish at all, but neither was he childlike. Beneath the fine cut of his three-piece suit dwelt a terrible void where his heart should be.

Once, before Karl reached this sorry state, back when fairies still gathered morning dew and the moon still remembered how to smile, he was skipping across an autumn meadow and saw a goat with his horns caught in a barbed wire fence.

Karl came over to the poor creature and despite the danger of the flailing hooves and the sharpness of the wire, he tried to untangle the twisted strands.

All he succeeded in doing was cutting his palms to ribbons.

“I’ll go get help, boy. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t.”

The goat had spoken! And before Karl recovered from this astonishment, the fence disappeared and the goat changed into a marvelous white lamb, so white that he appeared to glow.

“You passed the test,” the lamb said. “When you need it most, your kindness will come back to you.”

Then, like the fence, the lamb was gone. So were the sores on Karl’s palms. And all too soon his belief that this truly happened.

***​

Karl still needed love, for the child he was inside—his true self—never entirely disappeared. Perhaps his tenacious belief that life had meaning was part of the Lamb’s promise. He married and had a child of his own, a daughter. He also had a career in the highly competitive field of advertising, which was the only mistress that tempted him to stray.

His crisis drew to a head when his daughter Veronica was sick in the hospital. She was in a deep coma and Karl burned through all of his sick leave to be at her side.

Finally he was left with an ultimatum, pitching an ad campaign for a very important client that promised to shore up a sagging bottom line.

He put his love for Veronica back in its box, even as years ago he put God in a tidy gold box with a silk ribbon. He soldiered on with plans to make people buy things they didn’t need or want. He had to follow the numbers, and if he did well he might be free to rush back to the hospital.

As he was flipping through slides and holding up models, he felt his wrist buzz. He looked down at his smart watch. His wife had texted him “911 911 911”. One meant she needed him to call as soon as possible. Two 911’s meant call right now. But three…. That could only mean one thing. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said blankly, then left his notes and hurried for the door. The agonized cry of grief from the hallway made the shirts look up from their laptops and smartphones. All his boxes in his mind had opened, and their tidy contents had spilled out in disarray. The only number that mattered anymore was 911, and it brought him no comfort.

It was the end of Karl’s career as an advertising executive, but more importantly it was the end of Veronica’s life. And as too often happens, the end of his marriage.
 
THE VISION​

The disheveled man sitting on a bench in Kelvin Park no longer skipped across Autumn meadows, he only hunted for answers to questions that eluded his grasp. Once he knew where he would be in five- or ten-years time. He knew so much. Now his only wisdom was that he knew nothing at all.

He was still wearing his three-piece suit, the mark of his one-time fortune, when others felt comfortable jogging by in t-shirts and running pants. His tie was still firmly pressed against his throat and his napkin was folded neatly in his suit pocket. It was a bright cloak to hide his inner darkness.

He came there because of a very vivid dream about his daughter Veronica. “Come to Farthingdale, daddy. Love will make us a way, and we can be together! Sit on our favorite bench and wait for me and I will show you pi!”

He thought for a moment she was asking him to take his own life. After all, in one of the few minutes he acknowledged God before her, he told her eternity was like pi, something small and simple that never ends or repeats.

He even went on the internet to look up the best way to free himself. But something stopped him. So there he sat in his dove gray suit. He closed his eyes and silently murmured, “Please God, if you’re out there, help me!”

And just as the thought crossed his mind that he needed to find a miracle, one found him…

***​

This miracle looked like a tall cobra made of diamonds with a ruff of crystal feathers around its neck like an Elizabethan collar.

“Karl, I have come for you…”

“No!” the man cried, sprinting to his nearby car, getting in and speeding off. He had not even waited to fasten his seatbelt which was now urgently chiming in strident tones.

Finally, he got the belt across himself and clicked it.

“Perhaps that was bad choice of words, Karl.”

The man glanced into his rear-view mirror and saw the strange serpent face, ringed with feathers.

“Stay away from me! Get away!”

Karl turned quickly into the WalMart parking lot. He pulled into the first available space, never mind it was marked for handicap access, and fled the car, running to the store and glancing behind him.

The man rushed for the automatic doors, approaching so fast he nearly collided with the glass. He ran down the lingerie aisle, across sporting goods, and ended up in consumer electronics.

Some of the shoppers stared at him uneasily.

“Karl, we need to talk.”

“Aah! Stay away from me!” Karl looked around at the other shoppers who were backing back. “It’s dangerous! Get out!”

The end of the serpent’s tail wrapped around Karl’s ankle. “Look here, they can’t see me or hear me. But Security can see you, and they’re headed this way. Let’s go.”

In a flash, Karl found himself standing beside the park bench with the feathered serpent. A moment later, his car appeared in its former spot.

“We can do this again,” the serpent said, “or you can hear me out.”

“Are you a god?”

The serpent’s ruff spread wide. “There is not a god, only the God, and I am His humble servant.”

“What do you want??”

“What do YOU want? I was sent here in answer to your prayer. I understand you want to travel somewhere and lack the means to do so on your own. As a Quetzalcoatl…you may call me Holcan…I can take you anywhere, anywhen, and if you wanted to visit the Ice Worlds of Gamma Lyra, or witness the splendors of Ancient Rome you have but to ask.”

“I want to see my daughter. She is in Farthingdale. That’s all I know.”

“Farthingdale?” The being shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not on any map. Who told you…”

“My daughter is dead,” Karl said emphatically. “She told me. You need a different map…”

“But Farthingdale?? You don’t know what you’re asking!”

“I do. I choose Farthingdale. If it costs me everything I own—and that isn’t much—I want to go there. You gave me your word.”
 
HAIFA​

Holcan could take him as far as Haifa, Israel. Which seemed like a poor substitute for Farthingdale as Karl and Holcan stood before a nondescript run-down building, "Moshe's Tool and Die Co." Karl looks in one of the barred windows and through the dusty panes can see large equipment. A milling machine, an arbor press, and some calendaring rollers.

"This dump?" Karl asked. "You dragged me through half of town for this?"

"Appearances can be deceiving. This building contains a rare treasure. You see, I can take you anywhere in all creation. The place you seek must be entered here."

“Farthingdale…is in…there?”

The front entrance was bricked up. Karl asked, "A false door?"

"No. They are real bricks and this is a real door. I have never been a mortal, and I forget how weak and vulnerable you are."

"Life has taught me how weak and vulnerable I am," Karl said bitterly. He tried to pass his hand through the solid appearing wall. For his trouble, he nearly bruised his fingertips. "There, I just proved it. What now? A sledgehammer?"

"Only touch my side, and you pass."

Karl laid his left hand against the serpent and reached forward with his right. He let out a gasp as his hand passed through it like something from a fevered dream.

"Under no circumstances let go of me until you are completely through."

Gingerly, Karl passed through the wall, his eyes shut before the moment of "impact" which, of course, never happened.

He opened his eyes and looked around. There were some old machines, but in the center of the room was a large vault with a massive steel door. Its walls were prominently marked in several languages. "Prohibida entrar. Entrée interdite. Вход запрещен. הכניסה אסורה. Entry forbidden."

"You may let go of me now."

Karl laughed nervously. "Sorry." He studied the outside of the vault. "It must be really precious to protect it so well."

"These walls are not meant to protect the treasure. They protect the foolish from the consequences of their acts."

Karl looked around uneasily. In the shadows he felt he saw faint glowing eyes staring back at him. "What's that?"

"Consequences. Every decision has them, for good or ill. You are about to make a momentous decision, and its consequences will be profound. So, shall you walk away or forge on?"

Karl shuddered. "For anyone else, I'd walk away. For Veronica, I’d do anything. Even this."

Holcan nodded his head. "Lefetuch et hashe'er."

With accents deep and ponderous the capstan turned and the pins retracted with sharp clanks.

"Is that some kind of spell?"

"It's Hebrew for 'open up'," the serpent said with a trace of amusement. "I can use your human hands now."

Karl smiled sheepishly. He grasped the handle and pulled. The door opened surprisingly easily.

The inside of the vault was brightly lit, though there were no visible lights. Blinking at the brightness, Karl looked around for the great thing that must surely be stored here. And he saw nothing but smooth walls and, oddly enough, a dirt floor.

"There's nothing in here," Karl said, starting to take a step forward.

"NO!" Holcan said, physically restraining him, his pupils large and black. He softened his tone. "At the end of things, the salmon returns to the headwaters of his birth to spawn and die. This is the spawning place of man, the place where it all begins, and this is where they return when they die. Those marks in the dirt are the handprints of Hashem--blest be His name--where he formed the Adam and breathed into him the breath of life. Souls pass to Shiloh through this gateway, the exit from this fallen creation. As a mortal man cast out of Eden, you may not touch the very ground where Hashem trod, but you may place your hand in the corner here and take your first step into a greater reality."

As his trembling hand drew closer to the place the serpent indicated, he felt himself being drawn in, as if his hand were putting down roots into the soil. The ends of the roots extended through time and space. He felt the whole of humanity as if, for one moment, he possessed the vision of God. His instinct was to pull back, but he took the plunge and brought his fingertips into contact with the ground. "Oh my Lord!"

Darkness.



***​

He awoke stiff and disoriented on a brightly polished floor. Karl raised up, rubbed his face, and looked around. He was in a courtyard paved with colored tiles. In the center was a tall ivory and gold tower with windows that sparkled like gems. Everything was still and silent. In the azure sky there were no clouds, and no sun or moon to explain the light. It was comfortable, yet there was no hint of wind.

"Holcan? Where did you go??"

"Beside you," the crystal quetzalcoatl hissed. "I never left you."

Karl shook his head. "How long was I out?"

"Time has no meaning here. You were out until you were not."

"I had strange dreams. Colors without name, being everywhere, being nowhere, and tumbling through stars and galaxies. And I broke apart into sand and was swept back together by a strange wind. I felt...different."

"Those were not dreams."

"So is this the afterlife? Are we in heaven?"

"Yes and no. No and yes. You speak of one Creator, which is wise. You speak of one creation, which is foolish. This is all of them and none of them."

"You answer all my questions with riddles," Karl said, a little disturbed.

"Then let me speak plainly. You came where no mortal man may stand to see what no mortal man may see. You died, Karl. You were scattered to the four winds and remade."

"But I didn't agree to die!"

"You said you’d give everything you have. That includes your life. Consequences, my otter friend."

"Otter? Another riddle?" Karl said, gesturing with a paw. It was a brown, furry paw. He gasped. "What did you do to me??"

Holcan drew close. "You did say Farthingdale with an F?"

"Yes, but..."

"And you did agree to do whatever it takes?"

"Yes, but..."

"Your human body is rooted to the Sacred Adamah. In less than 24 hours it will be absorbed back into the soil from which your father sprang. You have one day to be in Farthingdale and do what you came to do. The candle is lit--don't let it burn all the way down."

"And if I fail?"

"Ask him," the serpent said, looking around. "All hail the Master!"
 
THE KNIGHT​

Karl couldn’t help but stare at the strange, tall figure who now stood before him. He had long flowing locks and a beard whiter than snow. He was dressed in rich saffron and crimson silks with a gold and silver breastplate and rich purple cape rimmed with gold stitched characters.

“Welcome to Malta Prime,” the lordly figure said, clearly addressing Holcan. “Have you explained to this man what he must know?”

“I have, milord.”

The elderly knight turned his saturnine gaze toward Karl. “Who told you of Farthingdale?”

“I saw it in a vision, Sir. Master. My Lord.”

“A vision I sent you in fulfilment of an old promise. You forgot, but I remembered for both of us.”

“Will I see her again?”

“It will take great courage, and firm obedience. In Farthingdale there are rules that must be obeyed. Breaking the least of these rules would be...most unfortunate.”

“I’d die?” Karl said, barely above a whisper.

“For a start.” The elderly knight added, “It was on this very spot that Hashem said, ‘Let there be light.’ The light has not failed, and it lights your path. It also reveals your innermost secrets, and anywhere you go from here is under the Order’s watchful eye. You come from a fallen world, rife with sin and death. Those who would enter one of the gates of Shiloh must be worthy. Are you willing to submit to judgment? Are you willing to be cleansed?”

Karl froze, but only for a moment. “I will take the test.”

The knight took a small crystal flask from his robe. In it was a bright red substance that glowed softly. “This is the Physic of Calvary,” he said. One drop of this applied to the palm of your hand, and we shall know your heart. You cannot hide from its searching eye.”

Karl looked at the flask, transfixed. “That’s...that’s...” He fell to one knee and bowed his head. “I’m not even worthy to look at it! I had doubts. I wondered how a good God could allow such evil in the world, and what was faith became wishful thinking. Surely there must be another test. What man can touch the Blood and live?”

The knight rested a hand on Karl’s shoulder. “Rise, my son. You have passed the test. The Physic you do not deserve and cannot earn is freely offered to you.”

Karl looked up and saw the face of the Grand Master, his true face. And in his outstretched hands he saw the marks of the nails. “It’s you!”

“Yes. Before the stars of the Havens sang hymns to the hills, before the first shepherd boy counted the stars, I Am.”

Faith had become sight. Karl reached out a trembling hand to take the hand offered him, and he kissed it on the nail wound and worshipped Him.

“You were the lamb! That really happened!”

“Yes, Karl. I will bring you to Farthingdale. No one enters the gate except through me.” A drop of the cordial was applied to the Master’s finger and he gently touched Karl’s forehead, mouth and chest. “Be you clean.”

Karl felt like a caterpillar who, having entered his chrysalis, had to melt away his old life to reform as a butterfly. But at the end of his painful ardor he emerged transformed and pure.

“Lead on, Lord.”
 
ARRIVAL​

It was a fine spring day in Farthingdale, as it always is. Karl looked about at the quaint wattle and daub buildings lining the cobblestone street. The neighborhood was rustic and lovely and surrounded him like a warm hug. Yet it was the village folk who held his attention. A stately badger hammered away at a metal hinge, still rosy from the forge. “Stay back, younglings,” he said to his curious audience. “Sparks look pretty, but they don’t feel so good.”

“He spoke,” Karl said.

“This place seems unreal to you,” Holcan said. “Coming from you, a talking otter...”

“Or from you…a talking …whatever-you-are. And yet this place is more real than anything I’ve seen before.”

“You came from the Shadowlands. You’ve spent your life gazing at the reflection of beauty in a flawed mirror. Now you see clearly.”

“I guess we’re the unreal ones here,” Karl said.

“You are. They can neither see me nor hear me. And remember, you are an otter here.”

Karl reached up and felt his face with his paws. “What I wouldn’t give for a mirror...”

***​

The young rabbit working the bellows came over. “Mr. Otter, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I just...” Karl looked down at the fresh, innocent face that regarded him with worry. “I just had a moment.”

“I know. I have those too.” The rabbit smiled endearingly.

“Careful,” said Holcan. “You wouldn’t stop in your hometown and hug a stranger’s child because they looked cute.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Karl said.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” the rabbit said.

Karl laughed self-consciously. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to...myself. Thinking out loud. I’m just new here.”

“Yeah,” the rabbit said. “I’m David.” A small paw reached out.

“I’m Karl.” It was all the otter could do to shake the paw briefly and let go. “I’m looking for someone.”

“The bellows!” said Mr. Badger. “David, keep the coals hot. I’ll handle this fellow.”

“Stay in character,” Holcan hissed. “You’re Mr. Otter, and you’re used to talking beasts. Don’t stare.”

Karl turned. “I’m sorry to disturb you when you’re busy, but I’m looking for Veronica.”

“Veronica?” The badger scratched his cheek. “I’m not sure I’ve heard that name before. What ilk is she?”

“Ilk?” Karl asked.

“Species,” Holcan said quickly.

“Oh, what ILK is she? Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”

It was a devastating question. Karl had no idea what form Veronica might take. “She was twelve when she…”

The badger tilted his head. “I’ve never heard that name before. And I’ve never seen your face. I know all the adults here.”

After a moment of panic, Karl said, “That’s because I was sent here to find Veronica. By the Grand Master.”

“Oh,” the badger said, taken aback. “You’re one of...them.”

“I’ve seen Veronica,” the rabbit chimed in. “She goes by Emily. She thinks Veronica is such a fussy name.”

“Oh, Emily! Why didn’t you say so?” The old badger smiled. “She lives in the second to last house on the right if you’re headed that way.”

“Thank you, Mr. Badger. And thank you too, lad. I wish I had time to watch you work.”

“Any time,” the Badger said, looking down at the anvil. “Thunderation! I let it get cold! Another workpiece Davy, if you please.”
 
MANY QUESTIONS​

The two strangers withdrew a safe distance before they spoke together. It would not do for Mr. Otter to be seen talking to himself.

"I could spend the rest of my days here," Karl said at last. "I'm tempted to let the Sacred Adamah do its work, even if I eat fish stew for the rest of my life."

"I wonder," the serpent said. "You think life here is just making hinges and curling up in a nice chair to read David his bedtime story?"

Karl looked about, startled. "How did you...?"

Holcan nodded knowingly. "I can see your real face. And your heart is an open book."

"Those eyes," Karl said. "I had eyes like that once. I just wanted to hold him and never let him go, to feel what I lost and maybe get a little back."

"How about Jacques? He has those same languid eyes when they're not red with tears." He looked towards the fountain.

"The bear cub?"

"The same." The serpent looked at the bear child and ruffled his wings ever so slightly. "The car accident that put him here killed his father at once. His mother only died this morning."

Karl gasped. "Oh the poor child! Does he know?"

"You mean, does he know his mother just died? No. But he can feel that something terrible has happened and his heart is breaking."

The cub's choked sobs pierced Karl to the core. "Am I allowed to...?"

"No, you're not," Holcan said, before he even asked what it was. "The Master told you the rules. If you live here, it will be for a VERY long time, and you will become quite good at honest poverty and humble service as the centuries go by. So, do you still want to read David a bedtime story?"

A moment passed. "Yes," Karl said. "Once I existed. Now I'm alive. It's like I've lived my whole life by candlelight and now I've stepped into the sun."

"I know. This visit was as much about you as it was about Veronica. And let me set your anxious mind at peace--your mother forgave you."

Holcan did not explain himself. He did not need to.

Karl took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a moan. "Dear God, how do you know? Are you sure? Of course you know and of course you're sure. You're always sure, and you're always right! How do you know these things?? How did you know who the bear was?? What exactly are you??"

"So many questions," Holcan said gently. "Your mind was asleep. Now that it is awake, you want to fill it with the stars."

"I bet you where Veronica was too!"

"I won't deny it." One of Holcan's wings gently touched Karl's back. "You were meant to know Mr. Badger and David. Remember, this is a pilgrimage, and every step has a meaning. To become wise, you must ponder the wisdom of such things. How pitiful is it to sell new clothes to satisfy old longings? The least flower growing in this meadow holds more of God than all the merchandise you sell."

The otter sighed deeply. "This place...can I hold on to this feeling? Even a little bit of it?"

"You have always had that feeling buried deeply somewhere inside. That's why the plans and pleasures of a fallen world never truly met your expectations." Holcan nodded. There's the house. Courage, son."
 
THE MEETING​

Karl worked up courage to knock. He rapped on the door gently, then with more force.

The door was answered by a lovely otter lass. "Can I help you?"

"Emily? Is that you??"

"Yes sir. I'm afraid you have the advantage..."

"Don't you know me? It's daddy..."

“This must be a mistake…”

“It’s no mistake, I swear…”

She frowned. "Is this some sort of jape? I'm serving dinner. I don't know who you are or what you want, but you're not my daddy, so please leave."

"Veronica Emily Seton, are you sending me away? I've come a long way to see you."

Her eyes widened. "But...but... My father was a man!”

"I know, Princess."

She gasped. "Only Dad called me that!" She looked at him closely, and through his different features came the same expression, the same reaction.

“Who did I have a crush on?”

Karl smiled. “Winnie the Pooh. You said when you grew up you would marry him.”

"You...really are...him??"

"Do I make a handsome otter? You make such a lovely doe."

“Daddy!” She gasped and threw her arms around Karl. "Jim, come quick!"

A buck otter came to the door. "Ho, what's this??"

Veronica said, "Jim, this is my father, Karl. Daddy, this is my husband, Jim."

"Your husband?"

"Yes! Isn't he a dream?? And you just have to meet your grandsons, Cody and Bill. I've told them so much about you! They will be thrilled to see their grandpa!"

"I can't stay that long, Princess.”

“But you just got here!”

“And please don't give me those sad eyes; it's not up to me."

“At least I got to see my son in law.” Karl went to Jim, reaching awkwardly to shake paws, but diving instead into a hug. "I was so hurt that my little girl would never fall in love, never have children of her own. Thank God for you! I will pray for you every night!"

Jim's eyes twinkled. "Likewise...dad."

“And the grandsons too…”

“Cody and Bill. Or Bill and Cody. Depends on who you ask.”

Karl touched his daughter's face with a paw. "I was allowed here for a moment to tell you goodbye. I was not there when you died. I never got to say goodbye. I never got to say I love you."

"You told me you loved me a million times. What's a million and one in the great scheme of things?"

"Oh, you are so precious. Like your mother."

"How is mom?"

Karl sighed. "Princess, your death put a strain on our marriage and we grew apart. That often happens when a child dies. Sometimes we went whole days without speaking, because the only thing we talked about was our grief. One day, your mother said she loved me but she couldn’t take it anymore. I haven't seen her in years. It would take a miracle..."

"You came here by a miracle. You have passed a thousand more in the street. I'm sure if you pray about it, and we will too, that you can have one more. Please call Mom. Promise me."

"I will. Promise." Karl smiled a sad smile, the kind that holds back a river of tears. "My time is up and I must go. Goodbye, Princess. Goodbye, Jim. Give the twins my love. And whatever you do, have a good life. And be like pi, never ending, never repeating!"
 
IN PASSING​

Karl stood silently outside Moshe's Tool and Die Company for a very long time. In the weathered and worn back streets of Haifa, his mind reeled with the ghosts of life changing moments. But where to go from there, down the shabby avenues of the shadowlands? Where is worth going, and what is worth doing? Would he...could he...ever be as fully alive again? Oh someday, certainly, when he returns to the spawning ground, touches the sacred Adamah and passes into the eternal sunshine of heavenly rest. But that could be years...

"Why let me feel these things, then take them away?" It was a legitimate question, and he pondered how his life would change now that faith had turned to sight.

Karl, who was now in human form again, reached into his vest pocket. The small medallion he withdrew was pure gold, worked with a skill no human hand possessed. "Sell this only in direst need," the Master had told him. "The memories it contains are far more precious in ways you can't imagine."

He closed the medallion in his hand and shut his eyes tightly, trying to remember the moment more clearly. Only he had another memory, one so sharp and clear that it was as real as the tides of his breath and the beating of his heart. It subsumed him like an irresistible river and carried him far, far away on the currents of desire.

In the candlelit den, he heard the front door open. "Momma! We won, we won!"

"I'm so proud of you, son! But I'm always proud of you!"

David hurried into the room, eyes shining. "We won, momma!"

Time seemed to slow down. Karl felt his arms gradually swing open. The young rabbit drew near with surreal stateliness, a smile blossoming across his face. As the final distance closed in, David too held wide his arms and sailed gracefully into a warm embrace. Karl could feel the pressure of David's arms, and with his own arms the comfort of David's silky fur. The good, honest scent of that young face pressed against his own made him sigh contentedly. Time seemed to stop.

Karl opened his eyes, glancing about the alley at the urban decay that surrounded him. "Can I still feel like this? Is it possible here?" He realized he was a living, breathing piece of Farthingdale, an otter, a traveler, a child of the light anointed with the Physic of Calvary. He had grandsons and a handsome son-in-law, and he had been given a clean slate to write his future. This was not the end; it was only the beginning. "David, someday I'll find you and get a hug of my very own!"

The alley was beautiful. Its spartan angles radiated charm, and all because love entered it and tears of joy had cleansed it. The sacred adamah was not just locked away in a vault, he carried it inside. Karl took out his phone and scrolled through the address book. "Laura Mills Seton," he mouthed silently.

They had tried to reconcile before and felt they had nothing without Veronica. Why would it be different this time? And it was then he realized how precious the memory he carried truly was. He didn't have the town of Farthingdale, he only had a single memory. Yet it is said in the presence of love, miracles happen. He pressed "dial" and searched for a miracle. But a miracle found him.

THE END
 
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