The Waiting Room

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

“Hello Darkstar. May I sit here?”

Startled, the mink looked up from her book. She hadn’t expected to be noticed, much less addressed by name in ‘The Waiting Room.’ “Phileana?” she answered, surprised to see the little teddy bear standing before her. “Of course, please. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you” the teddy bear sighed in relief. “You have no idea how hard it is to find a place to sit in here” she explained. Using one paw to pull her long dress from behind her she settled down. Opening the cloth bag she had been carrying, Phileana pulled out something Darkstar would never have guessed.

“Knitting?” the mink asked, suppressing a giggle. Of all the things Phileana had done, expressed interest or knowledge of, knitting had never been one of them. “Why?”

“It passes the time. You’ve never been here, I can tell you that it gets awfully lonely in here. Besides I’m expecting you know. We can’t have the little tyke getting cold during winter can we?”

Darkstar marked her book. For the once-dark villainess this was a simple matter of memorizing a page number. Closing her novel she just as carefully sat the tome aside. “You’ve been here more than once?”

“Oh yes. I was first created for Mel. White’s Dallas Brawl Update. Then when He left that group in 1997, none to soon in my opinion, since it wasn’t what it used to be. I waited a long time until He trotted me out for Her world. Of course Marie and Team Butterfly are having a harder time. They were created for that world. As you were. Like you this is their second visit, and the longest. Its been what? Eight months now? At least Lady Snowaters is tending to them. She’s almost as good at it as Yuki is.”

Darkstar leaned forward, her elbows on her legs, paws clasped between her knees. “Why do they do this to us” she asked seriously.

“Don’t sit like that” Phileana scolded. “It’s a mans way. Your in no way a man, no matter how dark your part is. Sit like a Lady, please?” She waited a moment until the mink had changed position. “Your not a vamp either Aggy” she laughed. Studying Darkstar’s new pose Phileana nodded as if to herself. “I will admit it fits you better somehow. And in answer... We are extensions of Their minds. Their dreams. Their imaginations. Those who create us. Be they writers or artists They bring us into being with part of Their own souls. That means when They have problems it extends into our worlds. His last eight years have been hard, the last two hardest. He is bringing us back though, it’ll just take a bit. I am going to miss my fur I’m afraid.”

“Miss your fur? I don’t understand.”

“He’s taking us out of the furry world. All of us. It is His hope that by so doing his Muse will re-awaken. Concerning us I mean. Amanda has most of his attention right now. She and those other two. Um, Kiko and Felina, though Felina isn’t his creation, and that co-work is ten years old already.

“So our lives can just be twisted around like that? With a stroke of the key?”

“Just like Theirs hon.”

“In a way our lives mirror theirs then. That’s a little scary you know.”

“Oh goodness Aggs, that’s the way of life. A very famous author once said something like; ‘If you put enough love into your work then it exists somewhere.’ I think it was Asimov but I’m not up on my 1950's science fiction writers like He is. It could be Clarke, certainly it wasn’t that hack E.E. Doc Smith. We exist, so much so that we will continue in some way, even after His death.”

“Not like cartoons do though” the Mink sighed. “They run forever.”

Setting her work in her lap the teddy bear studied her companion a long time before continuing. Finally she seemed to find the words she was looking for. “He loves us. He always will.” She leaned back, stretching her legs. “That world was a dead end Dark. A playground controlled by another who still isn’t ready for such power. You mentioned cartoon’s when I spoke of continuing. Think about this dear. Once a series ends there is no more growth. Not unless someone else picks up the reins. A few fan stories, maybe some art. But nothing major.”

“But I love Mylin.”

“And you will. I loved Eric just as much. But that’s over forever, just like Marie’s reality. It was a possibility that just couldn’t be. So we bring another, hopefully as wonderful, universe alive. I admit it will be rough but He is already working on it. Rewriting our stories, taking them down a slightly different path.”

“So we’ll forget what was?”

“I don’t think so” Phileana admitted. “We’ll see parts of them in these new stories. At least they will always be a part of us. Perhaps we will always see them as shadows in this new universe. But we’ll no more forget them than He will forget them. History is growth or death Aggy. We are both going to grow.”

“What about your baby?”

Phileana smiled, then patted her slightly larger than normal tummy. “I reserve that information to myself Dark. I know. I simply won’t say. Ever.”

“That’s mean of you. Keeping that kind of secret.”

“Yes. I guess it is isn’t it. But that’s my choice. Look over there, to the right. Do you see those four reptilian looking women. The smaller one is holding the hand of a young girl?”

“Who are they?”

“The taller ones name is Negreeth. She makes you at your worst look like a blushing virgin bride. He won’t write using her anymore. She scares him. Between them is Dragonet. The other is Xress Meth. Her daughter is Ocxkeef. Dragonet arrived here oh three of four years ago. Xress and her daughter have been here even longer. Dragonet will leave again, in other stories, but Xress and Ocxkeef are probably here forever.”

“Why?” Darkstar studied the smaller woman. There was an innocent angelic cast to Xress’s face that belied an obviously deadly creature. “Why would she be abandoned?” 

“Xress was created for a shared world called Unexpected Reactions. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her, but Xress helped save Earth. Though she had a Vulcan’s help. One Synoc, which means not only was she in a shared universe, but one based on an even older universe belonging to another. Synoc of course was another creators character, which is why she isn’t here. Between them they were the Ladys Draco. Of House Draco. Both married Admiral William T. Riker. Ocxkeef is Riker’s daughter. That universe is dead and there’s just no place else He can easily take them. Not unless He creates an entirely new universe and re-writes their stories. That’s more work than it sounds like, you can’t just use a Find And Replace tool.”

“And Dragonet?” 

“She had her own web novel. Artifice comics. One of the ‘editors’ called Him several rather childish names, then told him he had no talent and to get out. So He left. That was her second world. Her first was also a web comic, one that had simply folded. I think that was New Hope City. Her name was Sheena in that one.”

“Awful reactive these creators” Darkstar said, shaking her head. “How come?”

“To create something, ugly or beautiful, you have to be slightly mad. Not in today’s sense of the word. There’s a razor thin line between genius and madness. Ofttimes one is mistaken for the other. Our creators are emotionally on the wire almost every day. Why? Because even though they don’t want to admit it, people’s opinions of their work do matter. Matter a lot. For example, nothing he wrote before 1991 exists anymore. Not one word. Too much negative feedback with no positive support, it eventually got to be too much for him.”

“So we go to new worlds. I think that’s a cop out. I was winning you know. I fooled DahMiss.”

“No it’s not Dark. His original reaction was probably to erase everything. Destroy a lifetimes work and never show anyone his talent again. It’s the weakness of creators. They are simply very delicate creatures, emotionally. Sometimes they have to back away. Months, years or maybe half a lifetime. Problem is for Him half a lifetime is only about ten years now.”

“Sounds like He needs a few years in a rubber room to me.”

“I told you creators are always close to madness dear. He loves everything he creates. Even Negreeth and He’s admitted to his wife that those stories still scare him. Not the stories, but that He COULD write that darkly.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We wait. Wait until the new stories are finished, then we find out how much we matter to Him.”

“Weirdness. So we don’t vanish. At least not until our creator dies right?”

“Not really Aggs. Do you remember My Friend Flicka?”

“No.”

“A book, people still read it. There was a Saturday morning live action show. I doubt many people under thirty even remember it. How about Rin Tin Tin?”

“Uh, before my time.”

“Flash Gordon, Dale Arden, Emperor Ming.”

“My hero. Ming I mean.”

“King of the Rocket Men, Buck Rogers, Tom Corbett, Rocky Jones, Rocket Man, Shazam, Green Hornet, Black Museum, Dead End Kids, Tugboat Annie, Mr. Moto or Jungle Jim?”

“Nope.”

“How about oh, Beany and Cecil, the sea sick sea serpent.”

“You are kidding right?”

“No I’m not Aggy. Those were all big in their day. B&C were both animated and puppets. Tom Corbett was a live action television show based on a series of books. Johnny Quest was probably based on a book series called Tom Swift. There were three or four Nancy Drew movies made in the 1930's, a television series in the 1980's. Until the lead posed nude for Playboy that is. There were Dick Tracy movies in the 1940's. Supercar, Fireball XL-5 and International Rescue were puppet shows for kids in the 1960's. The Japanese recreated International Rescue in animation and there’s a new movie being created. That list goes on for a long distance hon. Just because something is animated, a book or live action doesn’t make it better or longer lived than something else. Once you stop creating for a character its over for them. Period. In five hundred years those shows will more than likely be forgotten. But in five hundred years, if we can get our creators to put us in hard copy print, someone may read our stories. We’ll step out of the waiting room again, to live in their minds. If our creators are good enough, maybe that reader will create new adventures. Who knows? The past is what affects us. We affect the future. You’ve read Shakespeare, Sherlock Holmes, Dumas, Plato. Time doesn’t matter when the work is good.”

“So in short you really don’t know.”

“Right” Phileana admitted. “It doesn’t help He’s a member of the Solar Guard. That worries me. Me? In a 1950's spaceship and a mini-skirt? No thank you.”

“So now what do we do.”

Digging in her bag the teddy bear pulled out a second set of needles and some yarn. “How would you like to learn how to knit?”