Cameron in the Paperverse: A New Friend

(Author's Notes: Hi there and thank you for joining another adventure! I won a Masqueram Companion from the Giveaway Raffle!!!! This critter is so adorable, and I knew immediately that she was meant to be Cameron's new forever friend. This is the story of how they met. As a gentle warning, this story does allude to some of the sadder circumstances of Cameron's life before he joined the Paperverse. The references are very vague and general, but do include brief mentions of homelessness and mental health struggles. None of these mentions continue for more than two sentences, and nothing graphic or detailed is discussed. I believe that this is a very positive story at it's core. Sometimes a certain darkness is needed to see the stars. But if you need to step away and return later - or if you need to skip this one entirely - I understand. Don't worry about Cameron, though. His life in the Paperverse is really turning out fantastic.) 

 

A particularly cold Chicago winter and a rainy spring preceded my arrival in the Paperverse. When the temperatures drop, the shelters fill up, and each year the city cracks down harder on where the homeless can congregate. I spent most of the worst weather this year on the seventh floor of the Harold Washington Library Center. They opened at 9am most days - 1pm on Sundays - and a quiet, unobtrusive guest could frequently curl up with a book until the building closed. This could mean up to eleven hours each day of quiet, warmth, and comfort.

 

I couldn't sleep there, of course, but I could do something almost as good: I could dream.

 

I read Alice in Wonderland three times over four months of bad weather. Through the Looking Glass twice. The Wizard of Oz and six other Frank L Baum books in the series. The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Hobbit, and the Silmarillion. Every Neil Gaiman work I could get my hands on. The Last Unicorn and the Innkeeper’s Song. I even read The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky, but that’s cheating because it’s my favorite, and I carry a beat up paperback copy in my backpack.

 

But in all that reading, I also made friends with some of the librarians. This is also cheating because I found out later that a few of them thought I was cute when I smiled. They knew that technically they shouldn’t encourage someone like me to loiter, but before long they started giving me recommendations and asking for my reviews when I invariably finished any book suggested within two or three days tops. It was Christy, a 20-something college student just a couple years younger than me, who cracked a code I didn’t even know I had.

 

“Have you ever read Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series?” She asked me one day.

 

“No, I haven’t,” I admitted. “But I’ve heard of it.”

 

“Considering what you seem to be into, I’m surprised you haven’t,” she said.

 

“What do I seem to be into?”

 

“A weird mix of fantasy and philosophy.”

 

That made me laugh. “That feels pretty accurate.”

 

She handed me a copy of The Golden Compass. “Here. I think this one is going to be a home run. Try it and tell me what you think.”

 

It was good. The whole series was damn good. I devoured all three books in record time. I loved the story, the themes, the bleak examination of modern theology. But what really sunk its claws into me? The daemons.

 

I don’t remember having any pets. I don’t actually remember my childhood, which I’ve generally taken as a warning to not go looking for it. I have maybe two years worth of memories in my head plus some ghosts that clattered around if I accidentally skipped my meds for a day or two back on Earth. Oddly, those ghosts haven’t seemed to follow me to my new home. But no matter what or where, I am a friend to alley cats, stray dogs, ducks, mice, and squirrels. I like most animals better than most people, and something about having an animal companion that is also a literal manifestation of your soul… that’s beautiful. The idea of it woke a kind of longing in me I didn’t recognize.

 

I told Christy she should work at Wrigley Field cause she swings for the fences and delivers. She repaid the compliment with a stack of books overflowing with animal companions and spirits and soul-bonds. I read every single one of them, page after page, and I think it delighted her to share them with somebody.

 

I didn't get to say goodbye to Christy. I hope she isn’t worried about me. She lent me her personal copy of The Name of the Rose, and it’s still in my backpack. I feel extremely guilty about that. I keep a hold of it in case we meet again one day. She’ll have replaced it by then, I’m sure, but it’s the principle of the thing.

 

So I found myself in the Paperverse. I joined a guild and discovered the wonders of portal magic. Life became an adventure rather than the desperate scramble for survival I’d left behind. But I was still alone.

 

Until Wouagi.

 

Something followed me back from the world of rainbow swamps. I heard its soft footfalls just behind me as I waded through forests and fields or as I cut across the alleys and pathways of local villages. Whenever I stopped in my tracks and cast about to find the source, all would go quiet. My lucky coin started to disappear from my pocket more often, too. It does that sometimes - steps out to make friends and returns later with a few new coins - but when it did so more frequently and then came home alone, I started to feel a little jealous. Who was it visiting and why?

 

One night I decided to make camp near the treeline of a thick copse of woods. My eyes grew heavy as my campfire burned low. Just as I began to drift away, I heard something rustling in my backpack. My arm shot out and grabbed the drawstring, cinching the opening tight around the thief. Under the waxing moon and catching the last glowing embers of my fire, I could just barely make out the form of a four-legged creature no bigger than a housecat.

 

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” I said. As quickly as I could, I loosened the cord. In a miasma of pale sparkles, a strange little thing with horns, a mane, and a tail shook itself free from the bag. Notably, it wasn’t startled enough to drop the cold meat dumpling it was attempting to steal. “You might as well finish that off now. Go ahead, take your time. I won’t hurt you. I was just a little startled.”

 

I lit my lantern and sat cross-legged on the ground a few feet away. The thief didn’t seem the least bit concerned about my presence. It made quick work of the dumpling and then sniffed at my bag again.

 

“Still hungry? There’s some jerky in there, but it’s wrapped up. Want me to get a piece for you?”

 

The creature dipped its head and took a few steps back. I crawled over and dug into the bag. I liberated the jerky and placed a stick of it on the ground. I settled again, and my visitor barely gave me enough time to get out of the way.

 

Once the jerky was gone, the lithe, foxlike creature pranced closer to me and stepped into my lap. It sniffed at my face and then curled up on my folded legs.

 

“What should I call you?” I asked. And while I didn’t exactly hear the answer, I suddenly knew it. I knew her name as confidently as my own. “Najika? That’s really pretty. I’m Cameron. You’ve been following me for a few days, haven’t you?”

 

She made a soft yipping noise.

 

“I’m new here, too,” I explained. “I came from a place called Earth. Would you like to hang out with me and be friends? I don’t mind sharing my food.”

 

She licked my hand once in agreement.

 

She’s barely left my side since then. Somehow I know that I’ll never be alone again - Najika will always be there with her soft little footsteps and velvet fur and rainbow candyfloss tail. I carry her in my jacket or let her ride in my backpack when the weather is bad. If she’s feeling tired, she might scamper up to my shoulder and rest, making little yips in my ear when something interests her. She smells like lemon candy and the freshest rain, and beneath her skull mask, I see galaxies in her eyes.

 

She’s my familiar, my animal companion, just like I’d read in a book and then hoped for with all my heart. When I bed down at night, she curls up against me, and I can feel her breath. As I fall asleep, I feel happy. So truly happy.