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Red Leaves and the Living Token - Book 1 - Part 1

Page 6

by Benjamin David Burrell

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  He found himself wandering out the back of the hospital and down the dark street that led to the coastal cliffs. It was the first place that came to his mind when he wanted to be alone.

  A steep staircase, cut into the black rock, led from the street to the sandy beach below. He stumbled down the steps, holding an arm in front of his eyes to shield against the sand blowing off the rocks.

  He'd come here before, to be alone, to think.

  He wandered onto the wet sand and felt the spray on his face from the dark waves that crashed against the beach. Night had come while he'd been in the hospital. Yet the night, with the moon glowing through a thin layer of clouds, seemed to add to the seclusion he was seeking. He tried to avoid the thoughts that were stirring in his mind, memories of his wife, memories of the last time he'd come here from the hospital. It'd taken him so long to forget, to push the memories back far enough that they stopped hurting. He had to. He had his son.

  She had passed away when Emret was five. It was quick. They only had a few months warning. Emret didn’t understand what happened. Raj had no idea how to help someone so young deal with such a great loss. He didn’t know how to deal with it himself. But it was worse watching his son suffer.

  The moon went dark behind a thick cloud. A flash of lightening flickered from the horizon, giving a momentary glimpse of the approaching storm. He felt a crushing weight growing from inside, pushing down on him. He couldn't afford this, not now. He had to fight back.

  He dropped to his knees, sinking into the soft sand. A gust of cold off-shore wind cut through his fur.

  He looked up into the darkness. He didn't know what he was looking for. Sometimes just seeing the heavens full of light staring back down was reassuring. It felt like something was there, even if he didn’t know what it was, and it was larger than him; It was larger than everyone.

  He got no such comfort tonight from the black storm rolling in above. The crushing weight increased, almost as though the storm had pushed a slender finger down, trying to burrow its way inside him. His desperation grew to panic.

  "Please," he voiced into the wind. "Help me."

  Another flicker of light flashed across the sky, showing for a brief instant the beauty of the clouds as the lighting etched its zigzag through them.

  "Please," he begged. "Don't take my son away too!"

  He turned away from the sky. What right did he have to ask such things? The proposition was ludicrous.

  He looked up once more. Ludicrous or not, he had nothing left.

  “Please,” he whispered.

  His thoughts dropped to a sharp pain in his knee. He shifted his weight to move his knee off a sharp rock that poked him from under the sand.

  Another flicker lit up the sky. As he looked down into the depression that his knee had left, he noticed a faint trace of light remained after the lightning’s bright flash.

  The wind blew away some of the sand, causing the trace of light to swell. The sharp stone that he'd felt under his knee was emitting light! The wind continued to clear away the object. It was some sort of carving, the figure of a small plant or a miniature tree! There was something else, something on the tree. He wanted to reach down and feel it, to pick it up, but hesitated. It wasn't natural. The wind cleared away the sand down to the base of the figure. A long bird curved around its thin trunk and a solid round ball of stone formed its base.

  His curiosity overcame his apprehension, and he reached down to pick it up. As his fingers made contact, a burst of blinding white light overtook his vision. His ears rang with a high-pitched whine. After a moment, his sight and hearing returned, but he was no longer on the beach. He stood in the street a few blocks from the hospital. In front of him, an ancient stone archway rose up out of the ground, completely blocking the road. A stone pathway extended beyond.

  He couldn't imagine that it had been there long. It would've blocked traffic, had there been any. He stepped towards it.

  His vision burned to white again. After a moment, color returned. He now stood outside an old school. He'd seen it before but wasn't sure where. He remembered he'd been impressed by the high stone wall surrounding the school. In the street beside the wall, he saw another archway. This one, unlike the first, was made of white stone and seemed rather modern. At least the stones seemed almost perfectly cut. Yet, it too seemed completely out of place as it blocked the road.

  The white returned. When it receded he found himself in yet another place. This time he was on a mountaintop in the middle of the day. A meadow stretched out in front of him. At the end of that meadow, a beautiful structure made of white stone sat, its spires leading his eyes up to the bright sky. The blue burned into white.

  Then he saw his son crumpled on the wet forest floor. A wave of red light washed over him. His son opened his eyes, then stood up. The forest blanked to white again.

  His son stood! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his son stand on his own.

  Raj’s sight cleared, and he found himself back on the beach. A stabbing pain registered in his fingertips. He jerked his hand back from the glowing figure. His fingers were bleeding where he had touched it. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, wrapped it around the figure and tucked it into his jacket.

 

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