#something something there must be a lantern-bearer and whoever holds it must believe in it
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Further installments of the Norman Lantern Saga:
what if i told you that Norman almost certainly harbors a deep resentment and anger toward Isabella, one that festered so quietly he wasn’t even aware of it until he watched her bleed out on the grace field lawn
#the urge to make an over the garden wall reference is so strong#something something there must be a lantern-bearer and whoever holds it must believe in it#something something else you’re in love with something real and you convince yourself the lantern is the only way to keep it alive#tpn analysis#tpn norman#tpn isabella
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Stuck
Don’t go into the Outback unprepared. That’s the lesson here. You’ll end up as stuck and lost as me.
After my husband of ten years left me for a younger woman, I was in dire need of a change of scenery. We had got married right when I was twenty-one, but we never got around to having kids because he wasn’t ready, as he put it. I guess being ready had nothing to do with him accidentally impregnating his mistress and then having to do “the right thing”, according to him. Leaving his wife, who had helped him build his business, did his administrative work for free, kept his house clean and his belly full was obviously the right thing to do. It certainly didn’t feel right to me. In fact, it felt very wrong. Suddenly, everything I believed in made no sense, the relationship I had devoted my life to was over, and there was only emptiness where my joy had been.
Not knowing what to do and where to go, I crashed on my friend Beth’s couch for a while – I certainly didn’t want to live in my “happy” home any more. What was I supposed to do next? Put my business degree to good use and try to find a job after more than a decade. I had never officially worked for my husband. It was easier this way. How silly would it be to split the money he made to pay his own wife. We would just get taxed twice. That was the logic. I never much thought about it. We were one unit, his money was mine, it made enough sense.
So I was stranded on a friend’s couch, unsuccessfully trying to find a job, getting more and more depressed every day. I was lacking spirit, as Beth put it. Spirit, where would I find that? Then it dawned on me. I had to leave to come back home eventually, I had to get lost out there to find myself again. I needed to go on a spirit walk.
The little money I had from my uni days, I had invested well, so that I had enough to do something a little reckless, a little crazy, and a lot of fun as it seemed. Even just the idea of a spirit walk lifted my spirit, and I set out to do just that. My online research led me to believe that you shouldn’t really plan your spirit walk but go where the journey takes you. With my limited resources, I couldn’t go all that far, but seeking adventure and a certain degree of seclusion, I didn’t actually have to go far. The Australian outback had always fascinated me, and now I would finally get to experience it. As a Kiwi, a New Zealander, I had been to Australia several times, visiting friends in Melbourne, Sidney, Brisbane, travelling up and down the east coast, even checking out the lush beauty of Tasmania on a three week trip once, but I had never really ventured into the hinterland. But now I would cast all my fear of the wilds aside and experience their beauty on my own.
So I told my family and the few people I still considered my friends about my trip and about the fact that I wouldn’t be able to stay in regular contact because of the obvious reception issues of the areas I was about to go explore. Some were happy for me, some were a little anxious about my solo trip, and some thought I was crazy. Either way, I was eager to go.
As soon as I had reached my destination, which was Adelaide, I got myself a rental car and drove off towards Port Augusta, from where Stuart Highway, or The Track, as it is locally called, would lead me through the red heart of the country all the way up to Darwin in the very north. The searing hot centre of the country seemed to promise the inner cleansing I was seeking. I spent several weeks of adventure and a growing fascination with the country while backpacking where possible. Otherwise, I spent the occasional night sleeping in my car until I reached a town called Katherine.
After a night of much needed sleep and a day of exploring the pretty little town, I spent the evening in a local pub where I heard both locals and tourists talk about the beauty of a region called the Kimberley at the very northern tip of Western Australia. The scenery they described spontaneously made me turn my car left towards that stretch of land as I continued my quest the next morning. I soon reached the area where the Northern Territories meet Western Australia, and I immediately understood the people’s infatuation with the region. Dusty and red earth met lush green thickets. Emerald rivers that made you want to stroll along them aimlessly, which is exactly what I did. I parked my car somewhere off the road near a local creek, grabbed my backpack, and started walking.
The sun dancing on the water had an almost hypnotising effect on me, so that I soon felt both light-hearted as well as light-headed. I still don’t know how it happened, but while I was walking along the river, I suddenly heard a sucking noise and was knee-deep in muddy sand. I had read about the occasional occurrence of quicksand around rivers and on beaches, but it still came as a complete surprise. I tried to get my calves out, but by putting more weight on my feet, I only sank in deeper. The sandy, wet mass was now already up to my mid-thighs.
That’s where I started panicking a bit. My heartbeat got rather fast and my breath even faster. I forced myself to breathe slowly, holding my breath for a few seconds in between every breath cycle. I had heard somewhere that I was supposed to pull my legs up and slowly pull myself up and out in a forward fashion. I tried my best, but the quicksand was already up to my hips, which made moving my lower body almost impossible.
Even though I was quite sure that there was no use to it, I took my backpack from my shoulders and put it on backwards, so that it covered my belly. I took out my phone and checked. No reception. Figures. I also found a bottle of water in there, and decided to have a few sips, no need to get dehydrated while being stuck. I tried lifting my legs again, but still couldn’t really move them at all. At least I didn’t seem to sink any deeper.
So I did what everyone would do in this situation: I cried for help. It did not have the intended effect. In fact, it seemed to have quite the opposite effect because I heard a slight splashing right behind me. Not like someone or something hitting the water’s surface but rather like something gliding into the river with as little noise as possible. I told myself to stay calm. I assured myself that it was nothing even though Northern Australia plus coastal rivers equalled crocodiles in my head. “Beware the salties” is what the locals had jokingly said to me before I had left to explore this beautiful natural wonder of lush yet rugged shrubbery and deep green rivers. It didn’t seem funny at all any more.
To see what was going on in the river behind me, I tried to turn around as best as I could, but with my restricted movement, I couldn’t see all that far back. There were ripples in the water and they slowly came closer. As I was desperately trying to free myself from my wet prison, my thoughts went to my messed-up life, and I found that it wasn’t all that messed up after all, or at least it was mendable somehow. I would find a way to make thing right, if I only got a shot. Just please, please, don’t let me get eaten by a crocodile.
Well, I got my wish. The ripples disappeared. Whatever had produced them decided to dive off into another direction. Which was of course a great relief, except that I was still stuck. While I was trying to free myself yet again, the sun was very slowly creeping towards the horizon. But not before it left me feeling parched and drowsy, and worst of all, out of water. The bottle was empty before I realised it. My head started hurting, and I started losing time. I don’t know whether I was actually unconscious for a while or if I just didn’t realise how the day slowly crept on, but suddenly the sun was setting behind the bushes and the dust-coloured hills.
As the twilight approached, I felt a little better and found it in me to cry for help once more, ignoring the fear of many-toothed reptile jaws mauling me to death. The only effect was a flock of birds flying off. Then it dawned of me that I might have to spend the night stuck in a hole in the ground and that tomorrow would be another day with the sun beating down on me relentlessly in this late Australian summer. Would I die of heat stroke or of thirst first? Oh my god, I had to get out of here. I leaned forward as best as I could and pulled my legs up backwards. My hands clawed through soggy mud and it felt like I was moving forward towards hopefully dry ground little by little.
Then I suddenly saw it. A ghostly light slowly approaching from the right. I yelled so they could find me, but I got no answer. Yet the light came ever closer, as if its bearer knew exactly where to go. I got an ominous feeling in my stomach and decided that it was wiser not to shout any more. I’d rather take my chances freeing myself, which was slowly working as it seemed, than being freed by whoever was coming closer. And closer they were coming.
The light was now shining through the branches of the bushes next me, and what came closer looked almost like a hooded old figure holding a wicker lantern in his hand. He seemed to be holding a ball of tiny branches with an impossible pale light shining in its centre, and his eyes reflected that ghostly light.
He burst through the branches and shone his lantern straight at me. Squinting, I saw a massive black hound sitting next to his feet, baring his fangs at me. They also reflected the ghostly lamp’s light.
“Need help with thy fate? I can help you pass over and cope. Guiding lost souls is my speciality,” the apparition said with a creepy smile and a croaking voice.
“Stay away from me, you fiend. I’m not done with this life yet. Scram, old man.”
“Hey, now. First of all, I’m not that old. And also, you must have misunderstood me there. Are you okay? You must have heatstroke or something. Just to make myself clear, I offered you my help to pull you out of that hole you’re stuck in.”
And with that the old man turned into a ruggedly handsome Aussie guy in his thirties, holding an electric lantern, with a blue heeler sitting loyally at his ankles. I sighed with relief and said, “I must have been hallucinating. What did you say when you offered your assistance?
“I said something like: need help with this, mate? I can use the Rover’s leash as a rope. Finding lost folks is our speciality.” With a shy smile, he added, “the last part was just me trying to impress the pretty lady.”
“Ha, I don’t feel very pretty right now. Mostly, I feel like I might be losing my mind. You’re either a handsome, athletic outdoorsman with a faithful dog or the grim reaper who offered me assistance in passing over while a scary black dog was staring into my soul.”
“I don’t know about the handsome part, but I am here to help get out of this hole and back on your feet. I’ll even throw in a shower, a hearty meal, and a spot on my couch for the night if you need it.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a sheltered and safe place to rest my weary head. I’ve had enough of being stuck for a lifetime.”
“Then grab this leash and after that my hand.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
So I made my way out of this mess and into what I was supposed to find at the end of my spirit walk. No need to roam about any more, I found my way back home to myself. I was finally ready to mend my life.
—Submitted by Lone-Eyed
#spoospasu#spookyspaghettisundae#horror#short story#writing#literature#spooky#fiction#submission#my writing#outback#Australia#Kiwi#New Zealander#desert#straya#crocodile#saltie#isolation#spirit walk#stuck#new start#cheated on#cheating#helplessness#river#fear#dehydration#thirst#quicksand
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tags from prev esthelle-wanders!
#THE LANTERN#we talk about ray’s VERY complicated feelings about his mom and we’re right to do so#and honestly the emma-isabella dynamic could stand to be discussed more because I rarely see anybody go beyond the larger narrative beats#to have a look at how the characters actually feel about each other#… but yeah ‘norman and isabella’ is my favorite branch of this particular tree#and i think about how we zone in on ‘norman got his facade and manipulation and sass from isabella’#which he did#but I think their relationship is built on kindness just as much as all of that?#Norman is the only one of her children who ever asked if SHE was happy#and when she says ‘yes’ it’s absolutely a lie#but like everything about isabella there’s nothing but truth there too#‘because I was able to meet someone like you’#norman HAS to think about that too right?#the last genuine conversation he ever had with his mother?#her last words that were exclusively for him?#and then we see that norman’s black-and-white sense of justice isn’t the only thing that drives him as minerva#but also a gradual poisoning of his kindness#his desire that no one else should suffer#his desire to be a comforting and inspiring figure for others#the part of himself that he actively smothers but still outs constantly even in masked and stilted ways#like Isabella’s kindness and her desire to deal out the longest and most beautiful lives she could for as many people as possible#and underneath all that they both want to live SO much#I can’t quite hit the nail on the head with them but believe me the nail is THERE#tpn analysis#tpn norman#tpn isabella
what if i told you that Norman almost certainly harbors a deep resentment and anger toward Isabella, one that festered so quietly he wasn’t even aware of it until he watched her bleed out on the grace field lawn
#the urge to make an over the garden wall reference is so strong#something something there must be a lantern-bearer and whoever holds it must believe in it#something something else you’re in love with something real and you convince yourself the lantern is the only way to keep it alive#tags from prev#OVER THE GARDEN WALL MY BELOVED#god i gotta make an au now#THE WOODSMAN THINKING THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE HIS DAUGHTER WAS THROUGH OTHER PEOPLES SUFFERING!!!#such great parallels to norman and isabella's mentalities!#and im pretty sure in ray's plan of revenge he fully intended to take isabella down with him#because he didn't think she could survive after so many high quality kids escaped#which references the woodsman being okay with giving up his daughter's soul to make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else#AUGH THE TWISTED WAYS THEY SET THEIR OWN FATES IN STONE BECAUSE THEY THINK THEY DESERVE IT!!!!#amazing analysis thanks for sharing!!!!#tpn#the promised neverland#otgw
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