CHAPTER 12
What he had searched for so long was seemingly truer every day. What the crazy, old woman had seen and remembered so vividly on her death bed, he could possibly see in reality. He saw his world in light of everything he had learned and had been taught. More so than ever, he felt contained by every single wall.
The times he had with the Historian, what he had come to learn from asking such a simple question, was of more importance than anything he had ever learned from his entire life before, from his teachers or from his mother. How could he learn the truth from those ignorant of it and not seeking it? It was not their fault. He felt no superiority. There was even a strange sentiment of envy as well as that same pity. Did no one actually care to ask a question? Was it only because of Aunt Junia that he actually cared? Perhaps it was, which made him that much more grateful for her. She was fearless. She wanted him to know. She simply died too soon, he thought.
Josiah maintained his daily writings in secret. It felt odd to him to write about himself, but the more he wrote, the more importance he knew the past held. Just as the Historian had instructed him, he wrote as much as he could remember, as many details as he could muster. It was his visits to her hospital bed that he detailed the most, along with the lessons he was taught by the Historian. So much had been said, so much had been learned, and even what was written in the boy’s book did not describe his full comprehension.
What he was taught in class seemed petty. He made a point to still exceed but only so no negative attention would be drawn to him.
He had not forgotten about the Captain. Though the Historian never accused their leader, Josiah knew that it was him that was hiding the sun. It was the Captain that knew the truth and suppressed it. It was the Captain that controlled not only the people’s future but also their history. He just did not understand why.
While in class, the door was opened by the silent guard. He made eye contact with the teacher, and Josiah was motioned to be dismissed. As he followed behind the man in uniform, he wondered if this man knew anything. Or did the Captain keep all of it to himself? It was a great load to carry. The power of knowing everything did not suffice to alleviate the weight of knowing everything. As they reached the elevator, Josiah slightly smirked at knowing that he could reach the Captain on his own if he desired, only it never occurred to him to do so before. 14525. The levels were listed on its wall. Level B held the truth. Level A held the mystery. Levels 1 to 4 held the ignorance. And Level 5 held the lie.
Josiah did feel a tinge of fear creep on him as they approached. What if the Captain knew about him and the Historian? What would happen to him? But if he was imprisoned, if he was kept hidden from the world just like the Historian, it would only prove to him that the old man was right.
He was led to the office of the Captain. He sat once again alone in a chair waiting for the authoritative man to present himself. His fear only increased as he sat alone. Perhaps, he thought, that is the reason why the Captain waits. However, the Captain soon after emerged from the room next door to the office. He was looking pale and rough, though still strong.
He took his seat behind the desk.
“I apologize for keeping you.” He was not, Josiah thought. “There has been some issues arise, and I could not afford to wait. Do you know why you are here, Josiah?”
So that you can take care of another problematic issue, he thought.
“No, sir.” He said.
“Things need to progress. You are being kept behind, and that is far from acceptable. What I would like is for you to be posted in the highest grade to learn everything you can. How would you like to be trained as a teacher within the next five years? From there, who knows what you can achieve.”
“A teacher?” Is that it? No charges of imprisonment, no arrest, no nothing? Did he really not know or was he playing at something?
“Not right now, of course. But eventually. After all, you are already a teacher to your classmates. Why not have your intellectual skills and your leadership skills developed and used for the benefit of your people?”
If it was not for what he had come to know about the Captain, he would have been greatly flattered and excited. However, all he could muster to say to his man was “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, sir.” He emphasized.
The Captain visibly showed his disappointment in the boy’s response, but before he could say anything in return, the silent guard entered the room and interrupted the meeting. He said he had a very important matter to discuss alone with the Captain.
The two men stepped out of the office, leaving Josiah once again alone. Though the door was left open, their mumbled conversation was inaudible. From what he could gather by their tones and expressions, it was troubling news followed by good news followed by more troubling news followed by an epiphany.
The Captain returned smiling and the guard, returning to his silence, left in the elevator. As he walked back into his office, he tossed a piece of paper on his desk.
The greatest fear that Josiah had ever felt filled his gut. He recognized that paper! It was the paper of the Historian! He was sick. What had happened to him? What have they done to him? What would come of that poor man?
“We’ve come across something very important that you may be able to help us with. It’s strictly confidential. Can I trust you?”
“Yes, sir.” The boy lied.
“It’s written in some sort of code. Do you think you can solve it for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It does seem to be very complicated, but if you can, I need it done quickly.”
Josiah took hold of the old and tarnished paper.
“It looks strange.” He played along, but it was that same strange paper that he found in his pocket what he felt was ages ago.
The writing was familiar, but the code was not the same complicated code he was used to in the Historian’s letters. It was not complicated. In fact, it was written in a simplified shorthand that the two of them had come up with in case of emergency, in case a message needed to be quickly written or quickly read. He could read this message as if it had been written naturally.
Josiah,
I’m afraid I’ve been too careless these past days. I should have been more cautious, especially for your sake. I will no longer be able to be with you. But that doesn’t change anything. Remember the first time you came to me. Remember the fear you felt but also the excitement. You were afraid, but you kept on going, and you made it to me despite the fear you felt. It may even have been that you made it here because you were afraid. Because, Josiah, excitement and fear go hand in hand. It’s not a bad thing. The worst thing would be to allow yourself to fall on the wrong side of fear. You see, fear can either lead you back or lead you forward and it is up to you to decide whether you will seek out the excitement that goes along with it. You have already, and you have done it bravely. Now I will ask even more of you. This is an even greater fear but with even more excitement. The rewards will be beyond what you can understand, beyond what I can understand. That’s the very point! It is my greatest regret that I cannot be there with you. But, Josiah, please listen to me. I believe I know you well enough to say this. Do not let my absence hinder you. If you do not seek after this, you will regret it. The sun is there and no matter how safe you are, and no matter how little fear you hold for the rest of your life, you will never be truly happy again. And that is saying much since you are so young. I’m saying this out of truth and love. I am not trying to scare you or put more fear into you. I simply want you to know, my boy. I want you to experience the truth. I want you to see the sun.
I’ve found a letter that shows us the way. Go to the Wall. Follow the letter.
With all of my heart and knowledge,
John the Historian
He fought his tears. The Captain could not see him react to the message. But that poor man! What has happened? And where is the other letter he mentioned? He feared that it had either fallen ou
t or had been taken separately. He subtly shook the letter. At the bottom of it, the page’s edge slightly divided on its right side, forming a tight pocket. The edge of another slip of paper peeked out. As the Captain turned away to give the boy the privacy of concentration, he worked the slip of paper out silently and quickly put it in his pocket without reading its message.
He had to think of something. He doubted the Captain would accept the excuse of not knowing. In fact, it would most likely raise suspicion, a suspicion that the Captain did not have at the moment. The message must still be a message from the Historian, he thought. It still must have a treasonous message. However, he could use the information he knew that they did not know he knew in order to make the falsely translated letter seem legitimate.
“Captain?”
“Do you have it, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
He began to read the message.
“Accomplice, the days are coming when I will no longer be able to take part. From my count there are more men than we first guessed. This, however, does not change the plan. It must continue and it must happen soon. Gather more men. Level A -” Josiah stopped reading and looked to the Captain who appeared to be anxious. “What’s Level A, Captain?”
The man suddenly grew agitated and defensive. “It’s none of your concern, boy.”
He quickly snatched the translated paper from the boy’s hands and continued to read it silently.
Level A can be entered by the main entrance on the day mentioned before. The first one to be freed should be the green-eyed man. He can help you with the rest. Do not stray from the plan we have spent so many tedious hours developing. Let me encourage you to have no fear. There is none who can overpower you together. Be brave. Maintain your courage. There is great importance if we can only achieve it.
I have found a secret that proves what we know. Go to the Wall. Find the name.
With hope of accomplishment,
John the Historian
Curses came immediately from the tongue of the Captain. Josiah was dismissed with an angry wave. He felt that it was necessary to attach the Historian’s name. He only hoped that he had not worsened the wise man’s situation. However, he had to act quickly on the true message of the letter. He had very little time. With the concentration of the guards on Level A, he was confident that he could sneak to the lowest level unsuspectingly and find what he was searching for while the Captain searched for the accomplice’s efforts in the halls of the imprisoned men.
He had to act quickly before the Captain issued the orders. He went down the elevator to the floor of the population. He dared not take a shortcut to Level B from here, especially since he guessed that the main entrance to Level A was out of this elevator, and it would be well traveled very soon. He took his path. Not a single person of the general population was aware of anything. His eyes were keenly looking for uniformed men, but none were in sight. His only fear was that guards had been stationed at every door that led to Level A out of precaution. However, they must have either acted too slowly or held too strongly by the false directions of the message. The door to the staircase remained unguarded. As he passed Level A, he hoped that nothing came to his green-eyed man. Hopefully there were more prisoners who had such eye color as him. He reached the lowest level, entered the code, and escaped to his haven, hoping no one would follow. He then took out that slip of paper that was hidden in the wise man’s message.
If my deeds have been permanent then this letter will be of no use. If someone finds this history and learns of it as I have learned of it, perhaps it will not be too late for them as it is for me. Read this journal. Learn from my mistakes and my foolish hatred. Escape. Find the hidden door on the outer wall. It is flush to the wall, so it must be felt. The key is WASHINGTON. It always will be. If there ever is written another history, consider me a Benedict for a better cause.
He shoved the slip back into his pocket. He didn’t have time to ponder everything that was written on the letter. He memorized what was essential. There was a door on the containing wall. Its key is WASHINGTON.
In order find the outer wall, he had to retrace the steps he had taken when the Historian had led him there. He had to start from the Historian’s library.
The poor Historian. He was the only one Josiah felt he really knew, and the boy only knew any truth because of him. How could he be gone? Where had he gone? It’s true, though, that the Historian had been a prisoner all this time despite Josiah never truly realizing it. The Historian told the boy this the first day they met that he was being held a prisoner. What then happens if the prisoner steps out of his boundary? Without the Historian, perhaps it would be impossible to ever see the sun. This realization sickened the boy. His heart sank, and he began to tear up. His only friend and his only hope seemed to vanish. Could the others be so cruel as to hold the Historian a prisoner forever never to see another person again? Or perhaps they may even be so cruel as to kill him? Josiah pushed the thought out immediately. Was the sun really that big of a secret? And why? Why is the sun a secret? But his thoughts could not linger on that anymore. He had to move. He had to continue on without his teacher. He had to fall on the side of fear which led him forward. He had to find the sun.
Josiah traveled on with commitment and anxiety. His mind was in pieces as he was torn between the sadness and fear of loneliness and the ever haunting and pushing idea of discovery and adventure. He traveled without the Historian to a place where he had only ever been with him. He retraced the path that had been hastily taken and led by the Historian, but they had made their way so quickly the first time, Josiah was not entirely sure that he was going the right way. The dividing walls were all so similar that there was no way to distinguish the true path. He was lost. Left or right? The boy began to panic. He hurriedly went left but immediately questioned his choice. Was it left? No, it wasn’t left. It was right. He turned around and followed in the opposite direction. Or was it left? The boy began to cry. He had finally admitted to himself that he had lost the way. They had gone too fast before. He couldn’t remember the way. How could he? The Historian had failed to teach him in his excitement how to get there. He knew what the Wall was. The Historian had taught him that, but what good did that do when he didn’t know where. He was close. He was on his way to find the sun. He was so close, but he was completely lost. His only option was to continue toward the outer wall. Go as far as he could until he hit the last wall. After all, everything was contained by it, so in order to reach it, he must simply keep going.
So he kept going, and going, not recognizing any of the halls or rooms he passed. He simply kept going. His nervousness grew. Did he hear footsteps? No. It was just his imagination. Keep going, he told himself. Keep going. If they catch on to an empty Level A, they may search this level as well. I don’t have much time, he told himself.
Then he saw it. Up ahead, at the end of hall, he saw the familiar containing wall. He ran to it in excitement and joy. He had found it at last, though it was not the same portion as before.
His hand started to glide against the smooth, metallic wall, but he quickly jerked his hand back to his body. It could not be the same wall! The wall as ice cold and his hand was still recovering from its harsh bite. It was not the warm comfort he expected to lead him. It was quite the opposite. It was harsh. It was uninviting. Beyond anything, it was disheartening. He then felt to be more lost and alone than ever before. Josiah wept.
But it had to be this wall!
He guided his left hand lightly and painfully along the cold wall. Although he still didn’t recognize the place that he had been taken to, he maintained his touch from that moment on. Then his right hand, placing his left in his pocket to warm. He feared that he might miss the difference between door and wall due to the numbness of his fingertips. He was not quite used to the painful sensation of the biting cold. It was never a part of his normal life. But what was normal? Then his left hand. He was still filled with doubt if this indeed was th
e same wall that the Historian had shown him before, a wall which was previously opposite to the touch but identical in sight. The thought of the old, fatherly man only brought more frustration to mind. It was never meant to be this way. If only the Historian was here, the cold wall would have easily been explained away with a brave and accurate theory. Or better yet, they would not even have been lost to find the cold wall, at least not so far away from the door.
His misplaced anger grew toward the old man. At that moment he felt that the Historian had overlooked a few things in his teachings. The boy had to come to the conclusion that his teacher simply did not know everything.
His hand stopped immediately. He looked around cautiously and carefully at his surroundings. Could this be it! He drew his hand from the wall and walked away, taking calculated steps, turned around and viewed the scene. It was it! It was the very place that the Historian took him. Without a doubt, this wall was the Wall, as the boy had only hoped all this time. The Historian knocked here. The Historian taught him where he stood. The Historian was right! And from here, he could simply follow the directions given to him. If the Historian was right about the Wall, the Historian would be right about the door. He took to the Wall. His fingertips still aching but with excitement pumping his feeling back and he followed along quickly, the door within his grasp. Soon he was at a trot, happily gliding his whole hand on the wall which didn’t seem to be as cold as before. He was laughing for the first time in a long time. He had forgotten about the Captain. He was happy and excited. He was approaching the door and he knew so. But, stop. What was he thinking? He could have missed a subtle crack in the wall while he was running. He could have run by it without even knowing. He slowed down to a steady walk. Then he stopped. He pressed his face against the wall, realizing that the cold had not diminished in the least. He looked down the wall behind him. Perhaps he could see if he had missed the door. Nothing. He looked to his right, in front of him. Nothing. It would be impossible to see the door, just as the Historian had noted. Careful, Josiah, he told himself. The door can only be felt. And he continued slowly, fingertips to the wall. How miraculous it would be to see the sun, how incredible a witness the boy would become to things unimaginable. It was bright, it was in the sky, it was beautiful. He repeated this. Bright, sky, beautiful. Bright, sky, beautiful. He was getting closer. He would tell the Historian all about the sun when he could. He would find the Historian no matter what. It was only because of the Historian that Josiah was searching for the sun. Bright, sky, beautiful.
Then fear crept in. He knew he didn’t know anything else about the outside besides that the sun was there. What else was there? Would it be as enormous as this place was to the red rubber ball? Would there be others out there? He knew nothing but the sun. His imagination could only see so much. In fact, in such a critical moment, he was imagining too much. Stop it, concentrate on the wall, feel the door. He worried that his worries clouded his mind and he failed to feel. He quickly backtracked but felt nothing, and continued on. He knew he was getting closer, so he slowed his steps, pressed his fingertips, and strained his gaze. The wall remained smooth, just as it was from the moment he first touched it. There was no division, no crack, no void.
Left hand. He traveled the wall. His fingers continued to feel. His mind continued to wonder. Aunt Juny and the Historian were the ones who deserved to see it, to go to the outside more than anyone, but it was him. For whatever reason, it was him. He knew that both his aunt and the Historian would have wanted it to be so. The wise man could have very well worked it in such a way for it to be Josiah rather than himself. Despite the time spent with him, the old man remained as mysterious as the old woman. He, like her, was wise and understandable but at the same time beyond comprehen - What was that? His fingers felt something. He ran them across again. He felt it. He saw it! It was a gap running vertically. He followed it with his fingers as far as he could reach. He stepped back to look, and there it was. The outline of a door in the containing wall. The door that led to the outside! It was completely flush with the metallic wall. It could easily go unnoticed. There was no knob, no handle, no hinge. How did it open? The only thing he thought to do was push, so he did. He pushed on the left side with all his might. It did not budge. He tried again. Nothing. He tried the right side. The door refused to move. He stood back against the opposite wall and ran shoulder first, ramming his entire body into the door. It moved! Barely, but it moved. The edge of the door’s right side showed an inch. With his small hands, he grasped the cold ledge and tugged. He worked at it, using all his strength to budge the door open. A gap slowly appeared and grew. With continued effort, he had enough room to squeeze his body through the very tight opening.
Josiah found himself in a small, transitional room. The door behind him, which he found no way to close, returned to Level B. And the door before him led to the outside. This door was it, the last barrier between what Josiah knew and what he hoped. This door had not allowed a civilian to pass through in over one hundred years. He stepped to the door with the elaborate keypad on its right. He entered the code that was written on the strange message in his pocket.
WASHINGTON.
A green light flashed.
A high beep sounded.
A lock clicked.
As he pushed on the door, it glided open freely.
He then stepped outside.
Josiah the Reformer Page 12
