The Believers

Mr. Rowen Darby was going insane.

A respectable thirty-something, he was dependable in every way. He was always on time, he always finished his tasks, and his word was solid as gold. Most people who met him were instantly struck by his dashing countenance and gentlemanly good looks. He had gone to some respectable Ivy League school, become a lawyer, married a lovely woman, and had two strapping young boys. He was everything every other man wanted to be.

To all appearances there was nothing wrong with Rowen at all. His home life was peaceful, his children and wife loved him, and his younger sister lived nearby. He seemed whole and well, completely in his right mind. He was sharp as a tack, as most lawyers are, and his mental state was most certainly not in question by any who knew him.

No, Rowen's madness was known to no person but himself. Not even his wife knew. Mrs. Alice Darby was just as predictable and responsible as her husband was (or seemed to be). She would never suspect such a thing to be working in his mind. And of course the boys knew nothing, Oliver being too young at seven and Connor being too distracted at ten.

Rowen was entirely on his own in his predicament. All he had to confide in was his journal and his dog. The dog was a Corgi, a cute fat little dog by the name of Tybalt, which of course Rowen had selected from Shakespeare's play The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.

Rowen was in the room that was his office, his children and wife already in bed. Tybalt lay at his feet, snuffling now and then in his sleep.

Rowen was chewing on his pen, a habit that he detested, but somehow could not stop himself from indulging in. Lying on the desk in front of him was a journal, about halfway open to a blank page.

With a decided look at the clock, Rowen began to write.

I dreamt of Dolpine again. What has this been? The tenth or fiftieth time? I lose track. It doesn't matter, though. All that matters is that Dolpine is in me. It's in my mind, my heart, my body, and my soul. If only I had never gone… but no. I don't really wish that. When I married Alice, I thought I loved her. Over time I realised it was all based on the fact that she would make a fine wife for a lawyer like myself. Now I know the truth. I have never truly known love until I found myself in Dolpine. And every time I dream of it, I long for it with a desire that I've never felt in my life before. I had no idea such feelings could be stirred up in the emotions of men. How dull my life has been! How little I have truly known! Oh, Alice… Oliver, Connor… I love you all and yet I love you not. How can it be? I really am losing my mind. How can I love and yet not love my own family? My wife and my children? And yet I love with all my entire heart and being a place that I have only been to once? Dolpine. I know you now, with your strange laughter and your quiet songs. The lake houses a magic beyond all understanding. Dolpine, Dolpine, Dolpine. I long for thee.

Rowen put down his pen. His hand had begun shaking and he felt he would have a fit if he continued. He reached for a bottle that sat on the desk and poured himself a small glass of brandy. He gulped it down.

Tybalt felt his uneasiness, woke up, and whined lowly.

"There now, Tybalt," Rowen whispered shakily, getting out of the chair and sitting on the floor beside the dog. "I'll be fine. It's all right."

Tybalt evidently did not believe him, for he continued to whine while pressing his wet nose into his master's hand.

"Ah, but I can't fool you, can I?" Rowen continued. "You can feel the madness. It's creeping out of me, isn't it? It's going to take over everything soon. I can't let it reach the children or Alice. I'll save them at least. Somehow. I must regain my senses. I have got to stop dreaming of Dolpine, Tybalt. And I will. I will."

He was most certainly not talking to the dog, though Tybalt listened to his ramblings as though he truly cared. Rowen was talking to himself, but also to Dolpine. He wanted Dolpine to know that he would not stand for this madness. Not that it mattered. He had tried resistance before, but it always failed.

Rowen stood up, stretched, and yawned. "Come on, boy," he said. "Time for bed."

Tybalt trotted after Rowen as he exited the office (after carefully locking his journal away into a desk drawer) and they went to bed.



Mrs. Alice Darby was bustling about in the house doing some cleaning. The boys off at school and her husband at work, she had the place to herself. Tybalt watched her contentedly as she dusted and swept.

Alice had no idea or premonition that something would happen to disturb her quiet, domestic day. She had no womanly intuition or gut feelings of any sort. She was sensible and practical. Those qualities did not allow for such folly as strange feelings. If she had been more attuned to these inner voices, she would have suspected Rowen's discontent years ago.

As it were, Alice knew nothing. So when she stumbled across Rowen's journal, she was not expecting to find what she did.

Normally the drawer was locked and she didn't know where he kept the key. But for some reason today, it was open. She shuffled about inside, making sure whatever special documents were in it were tidy and neat.

Then she found the journal. It had no lock and was only a plain leather bound thing. She lifted it out of the drawer and looked at it curiously. She had not known that Rowen kept a journal. (Indeed, Alice did not know nearly as much about Rowen as she thought she did.)

She flipped it open and immediately a postcard fell out. The side that normally bore such sentiments as Wish you were here! and The weather's delightful! and The natives are so friendly! was entirely blank. She turned it over and found herself studying a beautiful photograph of a mossy green forest. There was a word at the bottom of the postcard which declared the place to be Dolpine.

Alice remembered Rowen telling her briefly of the place. Apparently, one of his cousins had lived there, but had moved. She knew he had been there, but she didn't know he enjoyed the visit enough to keep this old postcard.

She placed the postcard on the desk and looked at the page which the journal had opened to. She nearly dropped it in surprise. It looked something like this:

Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine. Dolpine.

And etcetera.

She turned the page and found to her immense relief that it had some words other than that of Dolpine.

It plagues me night and day. I can't keep it out of my head. Oh Alice! Oh my sons! My love is all and only for Dolpine. Lord save me.

Alice was mortified. She didn't understand this strange and wild action. It was obviously a secret, something that Rowen had been hiding from her for who knew how long. She shoved the journal back into the drawer and fled the room.



Rowen yawned as he settled into his desk chair that night, but he stopped abruptly when he saw something on his desk that should not have been there. It was his old postcard that he had bought in Dolpine. It lay there, looking scandalized at being anywhere that wasn't the journal, which ought to be locked up in the drawer…

Rowen reached for the drawer in a panic, found the journal, but also found that the drawer was unlocked.

Someone had seen it.

Alice.

It had to have been Alice. It couldn't have been anyone else. The boys knew to keep out of their father's office.

Rowen didn't want to think of that. He didn't want to think of Dolpine, not now… not now… and yet… it called to him. He always wanted to think of it and yet never wanted to think of it.

He shoved the postcard into the journal, which he then shoved into the drawer, which he then shoved shut. He used his key to lock it and then put his head in his hands and groaned.

Tybalt whined at his feet.

There was a knock at the door, but he didn't respond to it.

"Rowen?" It was Alice.

She opened the door.

"Rowen, are you all right?" she asked, worry edging into her voice as she wrung her hands.

Rowen looked up at her sharply. "I'm fine, Alice, what is it you want?"

Alice looked a bit hurt, but she just said, "I only thought you looked tired when you came home. Do you need anything?"

Rowen watched her. She knew. He knew she knew. So why was she pretending as though she knew nothing? She didn't want to accept that her husband was mad. She didn't want to believe what she had found. Fine. He would indulge her.

"Ah," he said with a despairing tone. "Forgive me, love. I am tired, but I don't need anything. I'll only come to bed early."

Alice smiled brilliantly and then tried to subdue it. "Of course, dear."

And she left him to wallow in his self misery.



Miss Lark Darby was Rowen's younger and unmarried sister. Lark was born ten years after Rowen, but the age difference seemed to mean little to them. They were intensely close and loved each other dearly.

Unlike Rowen, Lark's countenance was light. She had a strange air about her, as though she was only a visiting spirit on the earth and was ready to transcend to another plane of being any moment. She often had a dreamy look in her eyes.

Alice knocked gently on the door of the house where Lark lived. She waited nervously until Lark opened the door.

"Alice?" she asked with a smile. "Come in."

Alice went inside and they sat down on a nice leather couch.

"What is it?" Lark asked.

"It's Rowen," Alice said at once, in a burst of words. "He's got some sort of obsession with that Dolpine place I was wondering if maybe he'd said anything to you about it or if you knew the place or why he'd love it so much and-"

"Alice," Lark said quietly, putting a hand on Alice's arm. "Please calm down. I know of Dolpine. I was with Rowen when he was there. Our cousin Maude lived out there. It's a beautiful place."

Alice explained to Lark all about Rowen's journal and the postcard.

"I don't think you need to worry, Alice," Lark said gently, her voice dreamy and far away. "Rowen is fine."

At that moment, Alice realised that she wouldn't be getting any consolation out of Lark.



The young Oliver Darby was best friends with his Aunt Lark. He loved to listen to her talk and tell him stories.

"Tell me about Dolpine again, Aunt Lark!" he said one day, tugging on her sleeve.

Lark laughed. "Oh Oliver. Never mention Dolpine to anyone but me."

"I know that," Oliver said in a tone that implied Lark had said this to him many times.

"All right," Lark agreed. "Dolpine. It's a place of beauty, of trees and animals… of nature. Oliver, if ever you go to Dolpine, you will fall beneath its spell. And if you leave it, you'll only long for it again. It's a place where magic still hides deep in the earth's soil and when you walk across that earth, the magic seeps up into you through the soles of your feet. Rays of sun break through leaves and colour your sight with gold and jewels… then you find them in your hands, glittering in the forms of feathers and stones. Legends live there, songs are made there, it is a place of ancient pasts and long gone memories, buried in the quiet wood. And if you heed the call of the lake, it will take you far into a realm where the air is stirred with song."

"Can we go to Dolpine, Aunt Lark?" Oliver asked.

Lark was startled and looked at him in curiosity. "I… well, maybe one day…"

Oliver grinned. "I like magic," he said.



Alice and Rowen watched as their boys played a game of catch in the sunshine of the park. They sat together on a bench beneath several oak trees. They chatted idly about their lives, nothing of much substance.

Shortly, the boys came running over and collapsed in two tired little heaps at their parents' feet.

"Are you done playing, boys?" Alice asked.

Connor nodded. "We got tired."

"It's such a lovely day," Alice said. "Did you have fun?"

"The park's real pretty, Mom," Oliver said.

"Yeah," Connor agreed. "And we had fun, didn't we, Oli?"

"Yeah!" Oliver tossed the ball over to his brother, who caught it and began rolling it around on the grass.

"I'm glad," Alice said with a smile.

"You should play next time, Dad," Connor said.

Alice glanced at Rowen, who seemed to have been staring off in the distance. He snapped to attention and smiled at his son.

"Next time," he said, quietly.

Oliver frowned. He climbed to his feet and sat down on the bench next to Rowen. "You all right, Dad?"

"I'm fine," Rowen replied, patting Oliver's knee. "Just a bit tired."

Alice felt a strange shudder go through her. Rowen was always tired these days. Somehow, she felt it had to do with Dolpine.

A breeze kicked up and ruffled their hair and clothes.

"Look at that sunset," Oliver said, pointing.

Connor twisted on the ground to see it. It was beautiful, oranges and reds illuminating the puffy white clouds. The cityscape was only a black silhouette against the light.

Rowen whispered a single word. Connor did not hear him, but Alice and Oliver did.

"Dolpine," he whispered.

Alice flinched, but didn't look over at him. So she didn't see Oliver turn to look at his father in wonder.

"You know about that place, Dad?" he asked, very quietly.

"What place?" Connor asked at once, turning back to them.

"I think it's time to go home," Alice said, standing up abruptly. She started off toward the edge of the park and Connor went after her.

Rowen had turned to look down at Oliver. "How do you know about Dolpine?"

"Aunt Lark tells me stories about it," he said. "But she told me not to say anything about it to anybody but her. She said maybe… we could go there one day. I want to go there, Dad."

Rowen was silent for a long time. Alice and Connor were far away from them now.

"Listen to your Aunt Lark," Rowen said at last. "Don't speak of Dolpine. Especially not in front of your mother."

"But why?" Oliver asked.

"Son, the magic of Dolpine is sometimes lost on others," he said quietly. "Especially those who have never been there. Lark has enchanted you with her stories, but your mother doesn't quite understand why those who love Dolpine love it so."

Oliver nodded. "All right. I won't say anything."

Rowen smiled and stood up. He held out his hand and Oliver slid off the bench to take it. They began walking after the others.

"It was my fault," Rowen said. "I didn't know Aunt Lark was telling you about Dolpine."

"It's my favourite story to listen to," Oliver said. "Can we go there, Dad?"

Rowen gazed up at the sunset. "I don't know. Maybe one day…"



Rowen knew that Alice would come up to his office soon. He knew she was upset that Oliver knew about Dolpine. But Rowen hadn't known about Lark's stories. This was not his fault. He had tried his hardest to keep Dolpine from all of them. But it had been so long… so very long since he had been there. His desire to return became worse with every passing day.

As he had suspected, there was a soft knock at his door.

"Yes, come in," he said.

Alice walked into the room, closing the door behind her. She stood just on the other side of it and folded her arms. Rowen did not look at her. He stayed where he sat at his desk, with Tybalt at his feet. The dog was wide awake and his eyes were trained on Alice.

"Rowen," she began, her voice quivering with suppressed emotion. "What is going on?"

Rowen sighed. "What do you want, Alice? I know you've found me out. I didn't know about Oliver. He didn't learn of Dolpine from me. Lark tells him stories. He probably doesn't even believe it to be a real place."

"That's a lie and you know it," Alice hissed. "He knows it's real. I can't believe that crazy sister of yours has been filling his head with it. One day..." her voice faltered, but she plunged on, "… one day, he'll become as obsessed with that stupid place as you are."

Rowen did not react the way he knew she expected him to. She was waiting for him to get angry. But he was too tired to be angry. He was too sad… too miserable to be angry.

"Alice," he said, so quietly she could hardly hear him. "Alice… I've tried to keep Dolpine away from the three of you. It was so easy at first… I hardly ever thought of it. Only every now and again. But it's different now."

"I'm only finding it hard to accept that you love a place you've only been to once more than you love your own family," Alice said. Her voice was shaking now.

Rowen looked at her then and his eyes were sad, his face drawn. "I thought you knew me better than that, Allie," he said, using the nickname no one had called her since they got married. "Now, I can see. You've never really known me as I have known you."

Alice could not hold in her tears. She leaned against the wall for support. Rowen stood up and walked over to her.

"I love you, Allie," he said. "I love you. And I love our sons. More than anything. More than the world."

He took her in his arms and she clung to him, sobbing into his chest.

"But…" she tried to speak through her sobs. "But… Dolpine… how does it… come between us?"

"Dear God, Alice," he said with a heavy sigh. "I wish I knew. I really wish I knew. Lark always speaks of Dolpine as a magical place. Lark… she's different, you know. She has something of that magic. I don't know how to explain. She wouldn't have spoken to Oliver about it if she thought it would harm him."

Alice stopped crying and pushed away from Rowen. "I'm sorry, Rowen," she said. "I can't compete with Dolpine somehow. And I don't believe in magic. I can't accept this and I can't live this way anymore."

She moved around him, went over to his desk. She opened the drawer, which was now unlocked. She took out his journal, flipping through the pages. She opened it to reveal two pages covered with the word Dolpine, handwritten and sloppy. She held it up, facing him.

"If this is what you want," she said, her hand shaking. "If this is what you need, then you'll have to leave me and the boys behind. If you can't break past this, Rowen, then neither can I. I can't save you from it. And I don't think you really want to let it go."

Rowen shook his head sadly. "It's just as I said before," he said quietly. "You don't know me at all, Allie. I'm sorry. I can't show you who I am if you won't see it. I love you, you know. I love you more than anything. You and Connor… I don't want to leave you behind. But I'm taking Oliver with me."

"No," Alice said at once. "No! No, you can't! Rowen, you can't."

Rowen came over to her and took the journal out of her hands. "This is all I'll need. Come, Tybalt."

He turned and walked out of the room, the chubby little dog on his heels.

"Rowen!" Alice cried, running out of the room after him. "Rowen! You had better not touch Oliver! You leave him here! Don't you dare take him away from me!"

The boys heard their mother yelling and came out into the hallway from their bedrooms.

Rowen ignored her. He went over to Connor and hugged him tightly.

"Connor, my eldest son, listen to me," he said into Connor's ear. "Your brother and I have to go away for a while. Be good while we're gone and heed your mother. You're brave and strong. I love you, Connor. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad," Connor said quietly back. "Don't worry. I'll look after Mom. I know she needs it."

Rowen pulled away and looked at his son. He could take Connor, too. Connor would be able to accept Dolpine the way Alice couldn't. But someone had to take care of her. It broke Rowen's heart, but he knew Connor had to be left behind. For Alice.

Rowen went over to Oliver. "Come on now, Oliver," he said, holding out a hand. "We'll have to get Aunt Lark, too."

Oliver hugged Connor and then took his father's hand.

Alice had been sobbing into her hands, but when she saw them begin to leave, she called out again.

"No!" she cried, grabbing at Oliver, but found herself being held back by Connor.

"Go now," he said. "Go, Dad. Bye, Oli. Be good."

"Bye, Connor," Oliver said. "Bye, Mom. I love you guys."

"Go on!" Connor said. He was struggling with Alice.

"No!" she called again, tears streaming down her face. "Rowen! Oliver! Let me go, Connor! Let me go!"

"No, Mom," Connor said as he watched Rowen and Oliver go down the stairs, followed by Tybalt. "You have to let them go!"

Alice stopped fighting against her older son and slumped to her knees. He held her as she cried.

Rowen, Oliver, and Tybalt did not need to go to Lark's house. She was waiting for them outside.

"We're going to Dolpine, aren't we?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

Rowen nodded. Lark took Oliver's other hand and they made their way down the street, with Tybalt at their heels.



Rowen, Lark, and Oliver Darby stood at the edge of Lake Dolpine with Tybalt beside them. The dog barked.

Rowen looked behind him. "Alice… Connor… I love you both."

"Come on," Lark said.

They stepped forward onto the water. It held them up as though it was solid. They walked across its surface, to its centre. All around them, the trees seemed to become taller, towering high into the bright blue sky.

Tybalt barked again.

Their figures blinked and there was a bit of light.

Then the lake was still and there was no person in sight. In the quiet, the sound of light laughter sang along the breeze.