Josiah the Reformer

by Jared Wallace Carter

CHAPTER 11

  When he finally reached the Historian’s library and opened the door, he found the old man stretching his body on the bookshelf, trying to keep his many papers which he had strategically attached to his wall from falling.

  “Here. Come, come. I need your help. Hold this here. Now this. Okay, great. Have you the names? Excellent. Hold this. Now here is the beginning of our time line. All the writings that were in the process of being written all stop at the same time. So, naturally, very little was actually written on or about this place, about us. The printed books aren’t to be worried about yet. Hand me the list. Here, this name, the first one, is - Where is it, where is it? Here!”

  He pointed to one of the many papers attached to his shelves. These proved to be hand-written copies of various civility sections. Each piece of paper corresponded to some aspect of history, of some help in establishing the time line.

  “So we have his name and a mention of his death. Therefore, his death was indeed recorded before the writing ceased. As was his death, right here, and his, right here. As for the rest of the names, I can’t be too sure. Did you bring your school books? Good, good! What I need you to do is to go through your books and identify the names in your books with the names on your list. Let’s try to at least identify when they say they lived. And can we track a single family through the many names on your list? If we can find out just how many generations are represented, then we can get a basis for time length.”

  The Historian paused from his teaching, took a deep breath and a seat, and looked thoroughly over the list that Josiah had created for him.

  “This is all brilliant. I’ve been piecing this together for quite some time, but this, this is the missing piece. We may have to do a good bit of assumption work, but if we’re careful, I believe we can figure this out. However, I will say that I do not believe our sources to be very reliable. All the more reason to know.”

  Though the work did not appeal to Josiah, he did what the old man asked of him. The Historian was clearly excited. Maybe he was born to be a historian, the boy thought. So Josiah sifted through his school books that he was already well-rehearsed in. He compared the historic figures, the names of scientists, workers, leaders, and doctors to the names he had written from the Wall of Memory. He marked the ones common to both.

  Meanwhile, the Historian was frantically examining civility passages, looking over the boy’s shoulder at the list of names, and writing rapidly in his own shorthand notes and figures and charts.

  Once Josiah presented his work which was called well-done, the Historian sat with all his work scattered on the desk in silence for nearly an hour, with the only sound being the old man steadily tapping his foot.

  “Based on this family line right here, using all the names we are given, I believe that it tells us this place is very, very old indeed. However, if we are correct about this line right here, it is not quite as old. But if I cut out what I think to be false names, mainly these, these, and this entire section, then follow this family line, well, that is another story altogether. What we do know, despite all of this, just purely based off of that precious lady of yours, is that the sun was last seen over a hundred years ago. To you and me, this is the most important thing. Much more important than figuring out exactly how old this place really is. However, because of this,” he waved the papers in his hand, “we do know that we are being deceived. Everyone has been for a very long time.”

  Josiah grew fonder of the nights with his mother. Though he knew how to avoid conversations with her that led to curiosity about his weekend, and though he often even had to be misleading, he felt closer to her since he began his sessions with the Historian. He never could pinpoint the cause or explain the change, but he knew it was closer to what it was meant to be. At that time, he began to pity her. As they watched the television programs, he pitied them as well. Perhaps he even pitied himself and the Historian. No one knew the truth, and more than that, no one knew that they did not know. But at least he was not alone. Maybe that was it. Maybe he saw that his mother was more alone than anyone he knew. She simply had no one else but him. With every session, with every bit of gained knowledge about the truth, with every closer step to the sun, came a greater fondness toward his mother and a greater pity toward everyone else.

  ---

  Upon knocking once again on the door of the Historian’s quarters, Josiah partially understood what the kind man was doing for him and to him. As he entered, the small boy simply thanked the old man and shook his hand, a motion that he had not done since he first met him.

  “Sit down, Josiah. You amaze me, you know that. You have been patient, and you have trusted me in everything. Let us now talk about the sun as openly as we can.”

  It had seemed so long since he had talked directly of the sun. He had so many questions that he had to let rest, and here he was, given the chance to talk about his strongest desire, yet he felt timid in the discussion.

  “Well, Historian, what is it?”

  “Starting out very strongly, aren’t we. What is the sun? You’ve asked me that before, and I’m afraid I have the same answer. Even I don’t know. With a hundred year gap between seeing and believing, I can’t quite say what it is. How did she describe it?”

  “She said that the sun was bright, that it was in the sky, and that it was beautiful.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No. That was it.”

  “And you searched, and you came to me, and you have done all this for that description?”

  “No. It was because Aunt Juny was at peace when she saw it last. It was because she wanted me to see it. It’s not because I believe it is beautiful. It might be. But it’s because she wanted me to see that it is beautiful. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you. It doesn’t quite make much sense to me, but that’s what I understand.”

  “It makes much more sense than you think, and it makes me think that you are perhaps the wisest person I have known.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t mind why, just know it. So, we know that it is bright, that it is in the sky, and that it is beautiful, but that doesn’t tell us what it is. It just tells us what it is like. I believe that we can sift through all the books we want, and we can think about the description from Junia, but none of that will let us know what the sun is. The only way is to experience it. The only way is to see it.”

  “But how can we? We don’t even know where it is.

  “Ah, yes. Where is the sun? I have an idea, but that takes a lot of explaining and a lot of time. We have those things, but sadly not enough for today. We must wait. Be patient. I will say this, that the sun is not here. But it does exist. Though we can’t see it, we will be able to.”

  “Why can’t we? Why don’t we know where the sun is?”

  “Because it’s being kept from us. Because it has been hidden.”

  “Why, Historian? Why would they keep us from the sun? I just don’t understand what the point would be.”

  “I don’t know, Josiah. I just don’t know. I have asked the same question for years, I still ask that same question, but I’ve never been able to answer it. I have speculated. Maybe for power, maybe for protection, perhaps we’d spend too much time with the sun that we wouldn’t work enough, perhaps they don’t want us to see something that the sun would reveal. But all that is merely thoughts with nothing to them. Perhaps we’ll be able to answer that question when we discover the answer to our many other questions.”

  “What if there is nothing? What if there is nothing out there, and the only thing that exists is here?”

  “Well, then this has all been in vain, and there really isn’t more to this life than what we think. But at least you are thinking. The mere fact that you just mentioned that something could be out there is worth all of this, I think. If there is nothing more than what we experience every day, if there is no meaning or reason for the things that are in these books, at least you are a little wiser than you used to be. You are admit
ting more possibilities than you have ever considered.”

  “But if there is nothing else, then is there even reason to consider possibilities that do not exist?”

  “There is reason because of this one thing, Josiah. Listen to this. There is reason because we do not know that there is nothing else. We will never know for sure that there is nothing else. Even if our whole attempt fails and we find that we cannot find anything out there, we still won’t know for sure that there is nothing.”

  “So in order to find what we haven’t found then we should continue to look for what may never be found?”

  “You’re wiser than you think, Josiah.”

  “If this place is all that there is, why can’t we just be happy with it?”

  “Would you ever be truly happy if you knew that there could be something out there, maybe not better, but at least different? Why are you here? Aren’t you seeking for what is true? Josiah, if you want to know the truth, if you want to know if there is a sun, then you must not be content with what you feel isn’t true.”

  “It’s just got to be there. It’s like I can feel it, and I won’t let anything get in the way of finding it. Especially doubt.

  “That’s what makes you different, Josiah, and I’m proud of you for that.”

  The sun became a somber idea that day. Each seemed to ponder further on his own doubts and questions about everything, for indeed finding the sun was everything. The Historian, though he didn’t voice them, had great doubts. For him, they were more exaggerated than the boy’s since the old man had been isolated in his thoughts of the sun for years upon years. It all pointed to one conclusion, only the conclusion was not understandable. They departed without further conversation.

  ---

  “I have something to show you, my boy, something extraordinary. First, I need you to do something. I need you to write down all the words that Junia ever said that don’t belong in our language. I need you to concentrate.”

  The words never left Josiah’s memory. They were his treasures, and ever since the old woman died, he held to them even more strongly. The list was quite long.

  The Historian scanned the words that Josiah had given him, recognizing most of the words from the various books he had read.

  “Here. Perfect. Here, look. This one.” He pointed to a word near the end of the list.

  “Outside?”

  “Precisely!”

  “But it doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Then let us make sense of it. In order for you to understand what outside is, you must understand the types of walls first.”

  “But what do walls-”

  “No questions right now, Josiah. Just let me explain. Come with me.”

  They walked outside of the room.

  “This wall right here,” he knocked on the wall of his own room, “it’s what I call a dividing wall. It’s what you probably always think of when you think of any wall. It’s simply a wall that has been built to divide space in order to create rooms, hallways, and whatever else may be needed. This wall divides my room and this room. However, there is also another type of wall. Can you think of the other type, Josiah?”

  “I can’t see how I could. The only wall I know is just a regular wall.”

  “Then you are in for a treat, my boy! Come. Let’s go find the other wall.”

  Josiah could see the excitement on the Historian’s face very well. He could also tell that the Historian had known this theory for a long time but only then seemed to really believe it. The Historian was having his breakthrough. His pace was very quick, and Josiah struggled to keep up as they traveled through halls and by walls. Every time they would pass by a room or corridors or such areas, Josiah could hear the Historian say, “That’s a dividing wall!” and “There’s another one!” although these statements were never really directed toward Josiah. As much as Josiah tried to along the way, he could not think of another type of wall. He did not doubt the Historian’s mind and the possibility that the Historian was really onto something, but since he didn’t know where they were going or what they were going to, Josiah was more irritated than excited, especially since they were practically running.

  “Historian, please wait. Where are we going?”

  “Ah, sorry, Josiah. Let’s stop for a moment then. We are going to The Wall. You see, there are many dividing walls, but there is only one of the other type. And that, my boy, is where we are going. After we actually see this wall, then maybe outside will become even more real to you. But let’s keep going. We still must hurry. I can’t be about all of this for too long.”

  They continued down, around, and through passing by many more dividing walls still at a quick pace, and Josiah still remained confused about their destination. The Historian was leading Josiah by the hand through areas that he had never known were a part of everything.

  Finally the Historian let go of the boy’s hand, and they both stopped and were looking at The Wall. It had a very different look to it than the other walls. The many others were smooth, colored, and dull, and fairly soft to the touch, but this wall was metallic, shiny, hard, with a surprising warmth to the touch. The Historian walked up to it and gave it a knock. The sound of the knock echoed and reverberated in the boy’s ears.

  “Here it is, Josiah. This is The Wall, the only wall like it.”

  “It’s weird.”

  “Even more so than you think. This wall is a, or should I say the, Containing Wall.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “With a dividing wall, there are places on each side of the wall. For example, with my room, on one side there is my room, on the other side, there is the empty room. Or with your family room, on one side is your family room and on the other side is the hallway. But with the Containing Wall, everything is on this side of the wall, and there is nothing on the other side of the wall.”

  “I don’t really…what?”

  “I thought you may not be able to follow me. So I brought this. It’s something I made especially for this.”

  He reached into his pocket and drew out a small red ball. The ball then divided into two half-spheres and inside each part, the hallow ball was filled with small ridges and divisions which made it look very similar to a maze.

  “It looks like a puzzle.”

  “Well, in essence, I suppose it is a puzzle, a very important puzzle. Let me explain it in this way. Do you see inside the ball, the ridges I have put in? Well, they represent the dividing walls, and really everything in this ball represents everything in here, everything we know, the family rooms, the main room, the hospital, the labs, everything. The edge of this ball is the Containing Wall. Don’t you get it, Josiah. There are two parts to a Containing Wall. This part,” he pointed to the inner portion of the ball edge, “and this part,” he knocked again on the metallic wall, “is the in side of the Containing Wall. And this,” he put the two half-spheres together and pointed to the whole rounded side, “this is the out side of the Containing Wall. As of right now, it is as if we are inside this ball. What we are trying to do is to get to the outside.”

  “But I still don’t get it. We are at the outside of the ball right now. So really, the ball is inside here.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it Josiah. If we are at the outside of this ball, and the outside of this ball actually leads to the inside of somewhere else, we are now truly on to something great.”

  “You mean to tell me that there is not really nothing on the outside of our Containing Wall, but that it will lead us to another inside?”

  “I believe it will, or at least something like that.”

  The boy’s face showed blank with thought. For a minute, the boy stood there. The Historian waited, knowing the brilliant mind of Josiah and that soon a conclusion would come of his contemplations. His eyes then squinted and his head leaned. Then almost as if snapped awake, the boy’s face lit up with a smile of excitement and a voice to compliment it.<
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  “Then is that where the Sun is!”

  “That’s just what I believe, Josiah!”

  “You mean, that all we have to do is get on the other side of this wall and we’ve made it, we’ve found the Sun!”

  “If we can get to the other side.”

  “What do you mean ‘if’?”

  “I don’t know how to get to the other side, Josiah. It’s never been done.”

  The old man’s face quickly lost its excited expressions and remembered the gloom he had pondered on for so long. The man, as long as he had known about the location of the sun, had known that he had no way to reach it, but that was always pushed behind and away by his hope of ever seeing his excitement fulfilled. It wouldn’t be until after the boy left him, after reading through more books as was his life, that the Historian came across a letter that changed everything.