Down the Rabbit Hole

by R L Delaney

  As soon as she was outside, she heaved a long sigh of relief, and deeply inhaled the fresh air. She had never realized before how good the fresh air smelled, and even though it had started to rain, a glorious feeling of liberty swept over her. To be away from that horrible Desastrotrax, to feel the wind and rain on her cheeks, to see the glittering reflection of the streetlights on the wet pavement, and to know that at least some things were still normal… for just a moment it felt like heaven.

  But she shouldn't stay here too long either. Soon Sternfoot himself would be coming out, so she ran towards the place where Father Gálvez had parked the Ford.

  It was still there.

  Thank God.

  Justin saw her coming and ran up to her. Amy fell into his arms and for a long while they held each other in a dear embrace.

  Brother Perpetiël climbed out too. "Justin… Amy… we must go. We can't stay here lest we are spotted by the evil ones."

  Amy nodded. "Let's go, Mr. Perpetiël. But I am so very glad to see you again. Those Shadow Walkers are more horrible than I thought was even possible."

  Prophet and Harrison safely reached camper without complications, and minutes later Harrison sunk down on a cushioned seat in the back. Prophet seemed to especially enjoy the scent of incense, as its sweet, somewhat pungent smell lingered in the small compartment and even caused Harrison to cough.

  "Tea?" Prophet asked in a concerned voice as he stared at Harrison.

  "Wa-Water is fine." Another cough rasped in Harrison's throat.

  Prophet nodded. He opened the flap door of a wooden cupboard right above a small window and a metal sink, and rummaged around for a few seconds with both of his hands. At last, he let out a victorious yelp, and fished out a cracked melamine cup that looked very similar to the cup Harrison used at home to put his toothbrush in. A grand smile covered his face, as he showed it to Harrison, apparently thinking it was a priceless treasure. He walked over to a smudged, plastic container and filled the cup with water.

  Harrison decided he wanted tea after all.

  "Sure," Prophet nodded. He dumped the water into the sink and looked around for the tea in the cupboard again. When he was finally done playing the good host, and had served Harrison a steaming cup of nettle tea in a German beer mug, the man settled down on the seat opposite from Harrison. When he had made himself comfortable he looked up and asked, "What was it again you wanted to know?"

  Harrison scratched his forehead. "I want you to tell me everything you know about the Shadow Walkers, and why are you walking around warning everybody, even when no one is listening and it’s raining?"

  "Rain?" Prophet asked while raising his brows. "What has rain got to do with getting out the message? I am on a mission, and it is an urgent one." Before Harrison knew what was happening, Prophet raised his voice and chanted in a melodious voice,

  Ho ho,

  Nothing can stop the man on a mission

  Thus, I warn the world of sin and perdition.

  The end it is coming, it's coming real soon

  It will happen around heaven's full moon.

  Harrison stared at the man for a second. Really crazy. He is completely nuts.

  Prophet looked right back at Harrison and shook his head while he narrowed his eyes. "You think I am crazy, don't you?"

  Harrison blushed. "No…," he lied, "It's not that… it's just… well, you are a bit different."

  "Don't lie," Prophet shot back. "I can see right through you," He leaned back on his seat and stared at Harrison for a while. Then he licked his lips and said, "But you are right, I guess I have a few medical issues. Ever since the accident, I am no longer myself, so I guess I have to forgive you."

  "Accident? What do you mean?" Harrison asked.

  Prophet lowered his eyes and thought for some time. Then he looked up again, smacked his lips, and gave Harrison a small nod. "I'll tell you. I can see that you made the Shadow Walkers mad. That means I can trust you."

  "Yes, you can," Harrison replied without being asked.

  A sad expression covered Prophet's face, and as he began to tell, his eyes got a faraway look. "You know…" he started, "…I once was a member of the Shadow Walkers myself, and in those days I worked very closely together with one of them in particular."

  Harrison was shocked. "You were a Shadow Walker?"

  "Yes, is that so strange? Everybody can become a Shadow Walker if they want it badly enough. You can too." He pointed his right index finger at Harrison. "Everybody can."

  As he looked down at the floor of his camper van, he repeated to himself several times, "Everybody can… Everybody can."

  "Sorry for interrupting," Harrison said, fearing he would never get the answers he was seeking unless he gave Prophet a bit of sensible guidance. "You were talking about the accident. What accident?"

  Prophet looked up, surprise etched on his face. "What did you say?"

  "The accident… what happened to you?"

  "Ah… the accident," Prophet repeated. "It's no good. Not good at all."

  "Well?" Harrison narrowed his eyes, desperately hoping Prophet would be able to gather his thoughts.

  "I worked together with a man called Sternfoot. He's high up in the ranks of the Shadow Walkers."

  Harrison could not hide his surprise, and felt like shouting he knew the man too, but just in time he caught himself and remained quiet.

  "Sternfoot has been working on a chemical formula for years," Prophet continued. "He aims to produce a substance that can open up spiritual gateways… You know, like doors between the netherworld and this present world, so spirit beings can freely travel back and forth. At first it sounded so interesting. That's when I joined…, but then I got scared, and I wanted out. That's when it happened."

  "What happened?" Harrison leaned forward.

  Prophet did not seem to hear Harrison and stared for a moment at the ceiling of his rusty home while plucking his fingers, and mumbling, "You can't just leave the Shadow Walkers. They own you." As he said it he narrowed his eyes and looked up at Harrison while raising his voice. "You hear me…? You owe them your soul, and you never get it back. Never!"

  As he pronounced the last word he slammed his fist on the table and Harrison jumped up from his seat.

  "It's all right, Prophet… Calm down." Harrison held up both of his hands trying to soothe Prophet, but the man didn't see him. He seemed to be staring into a world that was invisible to Harrison.

  "Prophet?"

  "What?" Prophet looked again at Harrison.

  "You were telling me about a chemical that Sternfoot was making…"

  Prophet nodded. "I remember. They call it Desastrotrax, and they tested it on me. Day in and day out… And then…," Prophet lowered his head, and as his shoulders began to shake several sobs escaped his mouth, "… they gave me way too much."

  Tears were now rolling out of Prophet's eyes and dripped into the nettle tea before him. Harrison had no clue what he was supposed to do. He doubted a simple pat on the shoulder would help. Maybe he should say that there was always light at the end of the tunnel. He had read about such statements in a book on positive thinking, but somehow, saying something like that seemed flat and useless. Sternfoot had messed with this man's mind and the poor fellow needed professional help. Still he had to do something… He leaned over the fold up table and touched Prophet's arm. As he did, a shudder went through the man's body. He looked up with wild eyes, and unexpectedly began to sing in a loud and off-key hoarse voice.

  Nobody knows the trouble I've seen

  Nobody knows my sorrow…

  When he came to the end of the second line his tears were already gone and he gave Harrison an apologetic smile. "I can't remember the rest. Do you know if there's more to this song? I'd love to sing the whole thing."

  Harrison shook his head. "Sorry. Never heard it before."

  "I love to sing," Prophet said. "I am pretty good, don't you think? Do you sing?"

  Harrison pursed his lips together. "
Yes, you are very good." He did not want to cause the man any more discomfort. "And no, I do not sing. But… you were telling me about the Shadow Walkers?"

  "The Shadow Walkers? I don't want to talk about them anymore." His eyes fell on Harrison's beer mug with the tea, and he frowned. "You haven't drunk your tea. You don't like my tea?"

  "Sure I do. I am just not very thirsty." Harrison tried to smile and he picked up his mug in an effort to be polite. "Prophet… you were talking to me about your time with Sternfoot… Please tell me more."

  But Prophet didn't seem to hear him. Instead he looked at a silvery alarm clock and wrinkled his nose. "Good grief, it's time for my friends. I’ve got to feed them."

  Without paying any more attention to Harrison, the man forced himself away from the narrow fold-up table, opened a cupboard and took out a bag of carrots.

  He still smiled at Harrison while holding up the carrots. "Carrots are good for you. Full of vitamins and healthy nutrients. But they are not for you. They are for my friends." Without another word he opened the door of his camper and stepped outside.

  Harrison scraped his forehead. What a poor, lost soul, and what horrible crimes were these Shadow Walkers committing. Maybe that monk, Perpetiël, could still do something for this poor man. As Harrison aimlessly stared out the window, he noticed Prophet walking by. Where was he going? Harrison peered through the dirty window and saw him kneeling down on the ground. He seemed to be talking to somebody. Harrison narrowed his eyes. Did he really see what he saw?

  There, right before Prophet, neatly lined up in a row on the muddy ground sat several rabbits. Harrison counted at least five. And there were two squirrels too.

  Harrison couldn't believe it and pushed his nose to the glass. Prophet turned around and must have seen Harrison, as he waved at him with a big smile covering his face.

  The carrot bag was empty.

  Chapter Five

  The next day the rain had stopped. The sky was clear, and a beautiful golden sun was fast rising when Brother Perpetiël woke everyone up.

  "Wake up, sleepyhead," the monk's booming voice shook Justin out of restless sleep. When Justin opened his weary eyes he spotted the smiling head of the monk poking out of a hole in the floor and for a moment he did not understand what he saw or where he was.

  Then he remembered. He had been sleeping on an uncomfortable sagging couch in the attic in Father Gálvez' house, and Brother Perpetiël was now standing on the attic ladder and just stuck his head through the hole in the floor.

  "Come on, Justin," the monk urged him. "We've got a lot to do today."

  Justin nodded and sat up as he massaged his aching legs. The musty couch had been too short, and even his back was hurting. At least he had not slept on the hard floor as the monks had done. Of course, monks like Perpetiël were accustomed to such hardships, and Justin realized that giving him the couch in the attic had been an act of kindness.

  After all, Father Gálvez had also slept on the hard floor. The priest had made a mattress for himself by dumping several sweaters on the floor which he had covered with his priestly robe. Surely, the man had not slept all that well either.

  At least Amy must have had a good night’s sleep. Father Gálvez had insisted she sleep in his bed.

  When they had arrived at Father Gálvez' place the night before, after Amy's personal encounter with the Desastrotrax, Justin had wanted to go straight back to his parents’ house. He had wanted to reassure them that he was all right, and wanted to see Balthazar as well. But Brother Perpetiël had been doubtful.

  "I don't think that's a good idea, Justin," he said. "Things are not as they seem and going to your place just doesn't feel right."

  That's when Amy told them what Sternfoot had said. "The police are looking for you, Justin."

  "The police? But I've done nothing wrong."

  "That's not what the Shadow Walkers think," Brother Perpetiël answered. "Don't be mistaken. You are a thorn in their side, and if they have managed to infiltrate the police, we need to watch out."

  "Then, let's go to Uncle Harry."

  Again, Brother Perpetiël shook his head. "The best thing for now is to do nothing rash." He had motioned with his hand for everyone to sit down. "Just jumping around and following our emotions will only cause us to make the wrong moves."

  "But we must do something," Justin said.

  "Haven't we done enough for one day?" Brother Perpetiël asked while he raised his brows. "I need to pray."

  Justin wasn't convinced. "Pray? But the Shadow Walkers are not sitting still. They are on the move as we speak."

  "Praying and waiting on the Spirit is doing something," Brother Perpetiël said with a twinkle in his eyes. "It's an important principle in winning the battle, Justin."

  Justin frowned. "I don't understand? We can’t just plop down on our knees and pray when people like Sternfoot poison the minds of my friends. Shouldn't we act?”

  “Maybe prayer is a bit different from what you think it is," Brother Perpetiël replied. “You associate prayer with saying grace for your food, and salaaming God on an uncomfortable wooden pew on Sunday in church. But praying is so much more. It's just like breathing, and it is something you do all the time. You are talking to the King of Heaven like the very precious and close friend that He is. The Elixir is not only meant to destroy the works of darkness, but it's also meant as a tool to communicate with Him on an intimate and personal level. After all, if He is the commander in chief, shouldn't we ask Him what would be the next best step?"

  Justin pressed his lips together. "Sorry, Mr. Perpetiël. It's just that I feel so stirred up by the things Amy just witnessed. I feel like I am just about to burst out of my skin." He let out a deep sigh and looked up again. "You told me I was to stand in the gap, and that's why you gave us the anointing with the Elixir. I just want to use the Elixir and get rid of those horrible people."

  "All in good time, Justin." Brother Perpetiël gave Justin a weary smile. "Most people underestimate what it takes to overcome evil. They compare prayer to a candy machine. You put in your little coin and then you get the exact candy bar you desire. But it doesn't work like that." He placed his hand on Justin's shoulder. "Do you know what the brothers in the monastery are doing right now?"

  Justin shrugged his shoulders. "Brewing Hopscrotch? Taking care of that beautiful garden?"

  "I thought you would say that," Brother Perpetiël chuckled. "But, no, they are not brewing our delicious drink, and they are not worried about the garden at the moment. Ever since we left the monastery, they have started to fast and pray."

  Justin looked surprised. "All day?"

  "Well, that's what monks do, Justin. Through our prayers we activate the power of Heaven. Through prayer we lay the foundations for our ultimate victory over the Shadow Walkers. And…," his voice trailed off, "… that's what I am going to do too. You and Amy need a good rest as well, so you will be fresh and perky in the morning."

  That had been the end of the discussion and Justin had been ushered up the attic ladder.

  But now, the new day had arrived.

  The sun had chased away the depressing rain clouds, and after a simple breakfast, Justin was ready for action.

  Justin had hoped to go to Uncle Harry first, and Brother Perpetiël had felt it was a good idea.

  It was still very early when Justin opened the front door and he, Amy and Brother Perpetiël were sneaking out. It was early, and Dewsbury was still waking up. The street was empty. Justin had put a pair of sunglasses on his nose and was wearing one of Father Gálvez’ jackets, so he wouldn't be recognized, but as they were walking down the street he realized they were a strange sight. The jacket was too big and made him look fat, while Brother Perpetiël's outfit, not to speak of his massive body, attracted attention as well.

  Amy had been able to persuade the monk to blend in a bit more, and not to keep walking around in his white judogi. "Maybe it is fine to wear your warrior's outfit in the monastery, Mr. Perpetiël," s
he had said hesitantly, not wanting to offend the mighty monk, "but as long as we are in Dewsbury, it is best you dress a bit more conventional."

  At first both monks had objected that their white judogi's were a sign of honor, but when even Father Gálvez raised his eyebrows and loudly cleared his throat, they nodded and accepted Amy's counsel.

  Still finding the right outfit for the giant monk wasn't all that easy. The only things that halfway fit were a bathrobe and a long, leather overcoat. Walking around through town in a bathrobe was just about as bad as walking around in his warrior's suit, thus they settled for the leather overcoat, and Amy found him a pair of loose fitting felt house shoes that covered his bare feet.

  They still didn't look like they had just come out of a clothing store, but they just had to make the best of it.

  Uncle Harry's place wasn't all that far away from the priest's place, and after they had crossed several streets Uncle Harry's two-story house came in view.

  The street, wide and lined with trees on both sides, was still steeped in silence, and except for a newspaper boy on his bicycle, who was delivering the morning edition of the Dewsbury Clarion, there was nobody around. The boy was just finishing with the street, and after he tossed a newspaper on the lawn of the last house, he disappeared around the corner.

  Justin glanced at his watch; 7:30.

  "Uncle Harry should be eating breakfast by now," he mumbled.

  Brother Perpetiël nodded and stepped forward. "Let's find out."

  A short while later the three of them climbed the porch that led to the front door and Justin rang the bell.

  Nothing happened.

  "Ring again," Amy suggested. "Maybe he's still in the bathroom."

  Justin placed his finger back on the bell, and rang again. Loud, long and hard.

  Still nothing happened.

  "He's not home," Justin said at last. "I wonder where he—"