Time Odyssey: The Soul's Memory; Part I, Dreamtime

by J. F. Weckesser

  Edak blinked. This was a tremendous task—yet he must help. “I will do all I can,” he said. 

  “As I already knew; you are a man of great honor. Thank you.” She thought for a few moments, then said, “You must inform your family first. Have them pack all they can carry for the new world.” 

  She took a folded linen cloth from a bench at the wall and opened it on the table. A map of Mu was drawn in red and blue dye. “Come, let us decide which area you will take.” 

  Now outside, Edak dwelled on her words. Where do I begin? And how will I start? He headed for the river. So many tasks lay before him. The sand blazed under his bare feet, but he didn’t notice. His mind focused only on plans. The first thing I must do is tell Myreem, Mother and Klad.

  * *

  “I will not go,” insisted Myreem, tightlipped. “I must stay here.” Edak stared at her, standing among the shelves of rolled-up scrolls. 

  “But Mu may be doomed,” he exclaimed. “The signs are everywhere. Surely, you have noticed. It would be your death to stay here, and I could not bear that.” 

  She softened, looking at him with a gentle smile. “I meant, Edak, that I won’t leave until you do. I will help in the evacuation. This is our journey, not yours alone.” 

  Edak’s heart skipped. He cared so deeply for her, and now he knew she felt the same. He took her hands. “Then we begin together, by sending our families off, and our village.”

  * *

  Days later, under Califia’s request, every seaworthy vessel in the land was commissioned to carry settlers to Mayra and Og. Edak carried a decree with him which he read to everyone he encountered, telling of the exodus. It was hardest to tell Ogra, for he knew her deep love for home and family. But what citizens felt otherwise? And so he told her, as gently as he could, explaining as she cried how this beautiful land was in danger. 

  Now remembering, it brought back pain. He and his family had walked together to the dock. Edak carried the heavy covered basket of Ogra’s belongings and set it down to be put on the ship. He looked at his mother, who gazed at him silently. Gray and black strands of hair played in the breeze and brushed her face, now lined with the passing years and sleepless nights. 

  Klad stood nearby with Tliksa, his fiancée. “I wish I could stay here,” he said. “I would run ahead of you and prepare the villages for your coming, and the evacuation. It would make it so much easier.” 

  “Yes, you would be a good help, and I would love it if you did,” said Edak, grasping Klad’s shoulders. “But Mother would be left alone in Mayra and the land is wild. How would she fare? She would crumble and die without at least one of her sons near. No, as we have agreed, she needs someone strong and brave to assist her in settling.” 

  He looked over at Tliksa and lightened. She was tiny and looked delicate, but a strength flashed in her eyes. That strength will be tested in the coming days. “You and Tliksa are a good presence in Mother’s life,” he said to Klad. “And we will join you as soon as we can.” 

  Klad exhaled. “I know. This is no time to think of one’s own adventures. We do what we must. And so, farewell, my brother, until we meet in the new land.” He stretched out his muscular arms and embraced Edak with a loving crush, nearly knocking his breath out. 

  Edak gasped, then returned the hug. “Farewell, dear Klad. How I’ll miss having my ribs broken.” 

  He went again to Ogra and they embraced tenderly. “Since we sent you off with Ropl Du Meh so many years ago,” said Ogra, “it seems we are always separating.” She sighed in resignation. “If only these were better times. But they aren’t, so here we are.” She hugged him again. “Stay safe, dear son, and may the days be speedy until you and Myreem join us in our new home.” 

  “It always hurts to leave you,” said Edak, “but especially now. I have never gotten used to it. But we shall all be so busy, the separation will not seem long.” 

  He watched them board the ship, then lingered and waved as they left port. They returned the gesture and then gazed hard at their motherland. All this was finished. They had mourned the loss of Mu since first learning of the exodus, but today they would be strong. Safety and a new life lay past the river and across the sea. 

  When they were gone from sight, Edak looked back at the land. Yes, it was surely dying. At this moment, the skies smoldered red and dark with ash and smoke belching intermittently out of the volcanoes. He inhaled, coughed the sulfurous air from his lungs and set forth. There was work to be done and no more time for emotion.

  * *

  The moon waxed, was full, waned, waxed again and was now nearly full. During this time, Edak and Myreem’s task was to evacuate every village possible. They insisted, on the queen’s behalf, that everyone leave, for they would die without help. Ship after ship after ship, too many to count, left the ports of Mu, all filled to the limit with people migrating by the droves, heading out to the mountains across the sea in Mayra. They took with them their goats and looms, urns, nets and potter wheels. Tucked into corners were scrolls and clay tablets from libraries throughout Mu. And always there were the tears—so many tears—for leaving the motherland was no less painful than to chop off one’s arm or to leave part of one’s heart. 

  The once-pleasant ocean journey had become a major undertaking, worse each day. Underground tremors shook the waters and they churned up monstrous waves that hit shores, destroying everything. Ship captains brave enough to return for more passengers told of vessels that couldn’t withstand the constant lashings of the storms and were lost with all aboard. Others barely got through to the new land, sustaining major damages which kept them from returning home for more passengers. 

  In Mu, the wind howled all night and all day with rarely a lull. The ground growled and shook, and volcanoes belched pumice and ash into the air. Breathing the stench of sulfur in the air caused people to choke and gasp, and they held cloths over their noses and mouths, to little avail. The red, black and gray sky reeked of evil. 

  Edak and Myreem struggled on, sweaty, grimy, their hair disheveled and garments torn and filthy. They took no time for their own needs—not to wash nor to change their garments nor even to comb their hair—but only to eat and sleep a bit now and then, after which they struggled groggily to their feet and continued. On they trudged through village after village, doing whatever they could to alert the people and lead them to the boats. But underneath their grime and sweat, beneath the calm voices and gentle touches, lay a cold fear.

  And then one day, at last, the seacoast towns were evacuated. Myreem and Edak stood and watched a lone vessel leaving, making its way out to sea. This single humble ship carried the people of the last seaside village. 

  After all this effort, the first part of their assignment was done. 

  Edak put his hand on Myreem’s shoulder and they found a large stone to rest on. He formed the oily, tangled mat of his hair back and retied the thong. Then he rubbed his smudged face and looked at his scratched and bruised arms. 

  He sighed and thought of the people living upriver. “We should be able to get the inner villages evacuated easily. At least we won’t be hampered by animals.” 

  “That’s good,” said Myreem flatly. She closed her eyes and rested her head in her hands. Her braids were tangled, the shells and beads long ago having fallen out. She was filthy and her unveiled face was red and creased. Her hands, trained to hold brushes and styli, were rough and calloused. 

  Edak observed this and was ashamed. This work is doubly hard for her; she isn’t used to this physical labor. What have I done? I should have insisted she go to Mayra with the others.

  Far off, a rumble sounded underground. It neared, becoming louder and louder until a deafening thunder roared as it passed beneath them. The Earth shook and jumped and knocked the two off the rock, hurling them to the ground. Violently twisting trees snapped, some crashing to the Earth. Stone huts disintegrated into rubble and barely missed the last two people in the village. 
<
br />   A terrifying minute passed, then the thunder and shaking rolled past them until it was a distant rumble down the churning river. 

  It was quiet now.

  Edak caught his breath. Myreem lay on the ground near him. He reached out for her. “Are you all right, dear one?” 

  Myreem moaned, then slowly raised to a sitting position, her face contorted with fear. “All right?” she screamed. “No, I am not all right! I am scared nearly to death! Every day these earthquakes and eruptions! Every day! How much more can we endure? I am so frightened, Edak. What can we do to be safe?” She broke into sobs. 

  Edak wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He stroked her hair. “I am scared too, Myreem. More than I thought I was capable of being. And there are others out there as frightened as we are. If we leave now, who will help them? They do not know where to go. We have to find them and get them to the ships.” 

  Though he spoke his feelings, he too wondered how they would succeed. There were so many, many people left. 

  In deep despair, he closed his eyes and pleaded, Spirit of All, speak to us! Don’t leave us in this desolation! We need to know you are here!

  He waited, searching his mind for a message, a symbol...something! 

  No answer came, no feeling of comfort. Nothing. Discouraged, he opened his eyes and rocked Myreem gently. 

  A movement to his side caused him to look up. A deep fog covered one area where a man stood. It was hard to see him fully because of the mist, but Edak could make out someone—a man—tall, in a white robe. Everything about him and the fog seemed brighter, more beautiful. Edak stared hard at him. It was hard to see his face. He thought of his father, but of course his father had died many years ago. It must be the yearning for protection that made him think of Rehm. 

  Around the man’s neck hung the gold medallion of Mu. Edak blinked. Where had he come from? There was no one within sight moments before. 

  An aura of loving warmth emanated from the stranger, and Edak’s terror subsided. “Be not afraid,” he said. “You are not alone, and your work is noble. You are never alone.”

  Edak felt heartened. “Thank you, friend,” he said. “We so appreciate your help.” 

  Myreem looked up. “What did you say?” 

  “I said I am happy he can help.” 

  “Who?”

  Edak looked up. The man was gone. The fog was gone. 

  Puzzled, Edak looked in every direction. There was just Myreem and Edak. “But...” he stammered, “didn’t you...he said he would guide us...we are not alone.” 

  They sat quietly for long moments, Edak trying to grasp what had happened. Then Myreem climbed shakily to her feet. “Let us get on with the work.” 

  He recalled the words of the sacred visitor. “Yes,” he conceded, shoving the odd occurrence from his mind. “We will finish this.”

  They would have to take a boat up a fork in the river, which would lead to the next village. Unfathomable work lay before them, but they had each other and they had the words of the stranger in white. It would have to suffice.

  * *

  Califia was tired. How good it would be to have a fruit drink to sip, to stroll in her garden. But those days were gone. She stood on board and looked at her anxious subjects’ faces, their eyes full of worry and uncertainty, mournfully crammed onto the ship, fussing toddlers, llamas and bleating goats by their sides. The vessel rocked and swayed in agitated rhythm and small children called for their fathers to fix it. 

  It was the children who warmed Califia’s heart most. Always the children, and they gathered near her now, that she might touch their cheeks, caress their hair. She loved each one as she would her own, for had her fiancé not died those many years ago, surely she would be a mother today. She sighed. It wasn’t meant to be and she accepted that as surely as she now accepted Mu’s fate. She was the mother symbol for all who lived in Mu and she knew what she must do.

  A disheveled man approached with his equally worn wife and three children. “Honored Queen,” he said, “we are so happy you are journeying with us. Perhaps good fortune will shine upon us once more.” 

  Califia smiled. “I would very much enjoy traveling with you, but not today. I am here to see that all the people are situated as comfortably as possible. No one must be separated from his or her family.” 

  “You are not leaving with us?” exclaimed the woman. “But surely you must know Mu won’t last another day. Dear Queen, look around! Come with us! We need you in the new land!” 

  “I appreciate your kindness, friends. But you must understand—there are still people waiting to leave Mu. How frightened and confused they must be.” She looked at the woman with resolve. “I will stay another day to help my people.” 

  The ramp was steep and Califia took care to walk slowly, lest her bulky frame tumble while leaving the ship. Her advisor Disnak met her halfway down. “Honored Queen, I have a special surprise for you.” 

  Her weary eyes looked at Disnak, then to the dock where he pointed. A sea of faces—so many faces—fraught with confusion and worry, stood before her. But over there!—that one she knew well. A flash of recognition struck her and she rejoiced. 

  “Edak! How wonderful, so very wonderful to see you!” She finished descending the ramp with a happy stride and rushed to him where, instead of putting out her hand as protocol dictated, she hugged him tightly, extending one arm to take Myreem’s hand. 

  Edak was stunned. “Gracious Queen! How can this be?” He embraced Califia in return, then joined Myreem and bowed low. “Why are you still in Mu? There is danger here.” 

  Califia laughed. “Yes, there is danger here. That is why I have stayed. Do you think I could rest easy in a strange new land, knowing my people are suffering in Mu? No, I will not leave until all the people are safe in Mayra and Og.” 

  “Honored Queen,” said Myreem, “it is not necessary for you to stay. Only a few villages remain in the east, and Edak and I will see to their evacuation. You must leave now.” 

  Califia looked at her two friends. “Tomorrow, perhaps. Today, no.” Her eyes wandered over the heads of the people, beyond the crumbling huts to the shaking, quivering forests, the belching, smoking volcanoes. “I belong here, in Mu.” 

  The realization of her intent hit Edak. He suddenly felt cold. He clutched her hands and dropped to his knees. “Please, Gracious Queen, please, I implore you...”

  She tugged at his hands until he stood again and her gentle voice silenced him. “I must ask you to honor my wishes. Mu is my home. I am the end of the monarchy of Mu. A new world must have a new government.” 

  He tried to speak but she touched a finger to her lips and shook her head. “No more,” she said quietly. “It is as it should be. My mind is made up.” 

  She squeezed his hands tightly and glanced at the crowd waiting to board the ship. “You must excuse me now for I have work to do. Farewell, dear friend Edak. Farewell, good Myreem.” 

  She broke her grip and looked proudly at her two subjects. Then she made her way to the anxious refugees. “Be not afraid, my people. I will help you to find a place on the ship. Please come with me.” 

  Edak and Myreem stood and watched her ascend the ramp, followed by a thunder of people and animals. Edak drank in all he could of her with profound pride and sadness, knowing he would not see her again. 

  * *

  And now days and nights mixed together like a nightmare, until the memory of days before this fury seemed like a long-ago dream. The river roared and tossed hideously. The winds howled, screamed and moaned, forming a hellish symphony that tortured the eardrums. 

  Edak and Myreem strained and ached in the struggle of forcing their little boat upstream. Califia stayed in Edak’s mind and the memory made him strong, then proud, then saddened, then furious. His anger gave him more strength and he rowed harder and glared. “How is it possible, Myreem?” he asked in a loud voice over the racket. “How could it ever be that the most
honorable race of people on Earth should be destroyed, and the underdeveloped, self-centered barbarians survive to rule the world?” 

  “I know, Edak,” she yelled. “But we cannot waste time or energy. We must focus our energies. Anger must wait for another time, in the new land.”

  Edak nodded. She was right. He glared at the swirling waters all around. Would they ever see Mayra?

  More days passed—long lifetimes of sulfur and flames, ground eruptions and cracking black clouds, rains of hot ash; and now—the horror—bloated bodies of animals and people. Sometimes the two dug through rubble to find a baby, a child, one or two adults, and they helped them to the river. Usually there was only death. Still, they struggled, looking for anyone, anyone at all.

  But then one day—finally!—they reached this, the last village marked on Califia’s map.

  They scanned the area. Houses had all crumbled to the ground. Bodies of people and animals lay stinking and bloated in the rubble. Volcanic ash covered the landscape, and a ghostlike air had settled. 

  It was dead. Everywhere. 

  They stood silently, too numb to cry, no words to say. 

  Then they made their way through the debris. “If there were any survivors,” said Edak, “they must have fled. I hope they made it.” He rested a hand on the back of her neck.

  They tarried in silence a while longer, then forced the heartache from their consciousness. They would grieve another day, but not now—not now. 

  Edak looked up at a cliff that loomed over the village. Where a waterfall once cascaded down the mountain, spurts and splashes now gushed forth, symptoms of the Earth in throes of death. He slipped his arm around her waist. “Look, Myreem. This is the birth of the river. No more towns. The work is finished.” 

  Myreem studied the cliff and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly, with a shudder, and rested her head on his shoulder. “I am so tired,” she said.

  Just then the Earth retched and heaved again. Myreem tensed and looked around. 

  “We must make it to the boat!” cried Edak. “Let us hurry!” They grasped each other’s hands and ran for the water.