by R L Delaney
Brother Perpetiël chuckled as he saw the startled expressions on the faces of Justin and Amy. "We eat here in accordance to the movement of the sun," he explained. "Breakfast is at the first sign of dawn and dinner starts at the moment the sun has completely sunk behind the horizon and darkness covers the land."
He pointed to the nearest door in the hallway and said, "That's where we will eat, or do you want me to show you where you will stay the night first?"
Justin shook his head and stared with hungry eyes at the door of what he imagined to be the entrance to a room with lusciously decorated tables, full of fried chicken, dumplings and French fries. "No, Mr. Perpetiël… let's not be late for dinner."
"Then, let's eat and you will meet the other Brothers of our Order." He turned to Rodeo who kept himself in the background. "You too, Rodeo. I believe you might even like it here."
Justin stared at the man, who lowered his eyes and scraped with his feet over the marble floor. And then to think that for Rodeo, this place was a prison. It sure was a whole lot better than being locked away in the Bakersville State Penitentiary. But would Rodeo really remain as meek as he seemed to be? Justin, in any case, was not about to fraternize with the guy. He was not about to mingle with Shadow Walkers, not even with those that wanted out. But then again, he was not a warrior monk either.
That night, when Justin was trying to sleep and he was still thinking back on the events of the day, he had to chuckle about that special Friday meal. He should have known better… he was at a monastery, not at a five-star resort with swimming pools and an all-you-can-eat restaurant. That special meal he had been looking forward to, had been disappointing to say the least. Even his mother's burnt offerings were tastier than what appeared to be some sort of dry rice pancakes with a suspicious looking sauce, made of herbs and hard unidentifiable seeds, that Brother Perpetiël enthusiastically claimed were Pingo nuts. Whatever that was supposed to mean had yet to be determined, but, and Justin had to reluctantly agree, at least, it had taken some of his hunger away. Nevertheless, if this special meal, that Brother Josebius affectionately had called Strix pancakes, was so special and tasty that the monks couldn't stop praising it during the course of the meal, Justin feared for the rest of his stay here.
But he did not come here for food. He came here for something much more important and he could easily overlook the temporary hardship of having to miss a juicy pork chop or a Turkey burger from the MacMillan, the fast food place on Main Street.
And, admittedly, the Hopscorch had been nice. Very nice.
"We brew it ourselves," Brother Perpetiël had explained. "It's a mixture of herbs we gather on the mountains, barley oil and sugar… We only drink one cup. It's pretty strong."
Justin had gulped down his cup in a jiffy, and that before he knew he would only get one cup. Too late, he realized all the others used the drink to wash away the sour taste of the Stix pancakes, something he could no longer do.
But other than the food, this place was beautiful. It was so still here that you could only describe the silence as deafening. Here you could hear the whispers of nature in a way that was impossible in the busy life back home. No wonder these monks had such outstanding powers. Their whole lives centered on following nature's prodding, and there were no distractions to take your attention away from what your heart was trying to tell you.
After he and Amy had been introduced to all the other monks, and Abbot Hofniel had led them into a long and solemn prayer, under loud applause from the monks, the Stix pancakes had been served, and both Justin and Amy had been besieged by many questions from the monks.
A friendly bunch they were, although, Justin couldn't deny it, they were… different. All of them big and bulky, all of them dressed in these fighting suits and all of them barefooted. But Justin could tell they were genuinely warm and friendly, and Justin liked them. All of them.
The only thing Justin didn't like was their age. All of them seemed so old. They all were clearly at the end of their lives, rather than somewhere in the middle. In fact, Brother Perpetiël almost seemed young in comparison, but the truth was that even he was of old age.
After dinner, Brother Josebius had led both him and Amy to two separate small rooms where they could sleep. Each place was almost entirely taken up by a wooden bed with a straw mattress and a prickly, coarse woolen blanket. In the corner stood an earthen jug of water and a cup, and that was it. No frills.
"These rooms are used for prayer and contemplation," the Brother had said. "Thus there are no windows, and usually there's no bed either, but we've placed these here for you."
Neither Justin nor Amy minded very much. They were exhausted after the long and event filled day, and Justin would have even slept sitting up.
Right before Justin and Amy had been shown their rooms, Brother Perpetiël and the Abbot had left together with Alfred Rodeo, and while he yawned, Justin wondered where they had locked him up, but he didn't want to think about it for too long. Sleep was slowly overtaking him and he felt himself slipping away in the warm and comfortable arms of a blessed rest. The last thing he saw before he dozed off was the face of Balthazar, who wanted to lick his face as if to tell him, "I am a warrior too. A warrior dog, and I am watching over you, young Justin. Take your rest and sleep."
Chapter Eight
The Abbot's intelligent eyes peered at Justin and Amy while they sat before him on two three-legged stools outside in the garden of the monastery. It was still early and the sun was casting its first warm rays over the distant mountain range, immersing the garden in glorious hues of the sparkling morning light. Justin had expected it to be still fresh and had zipped up his coat all the way to his neck, but the weather was surprisingly mild. When Amy saw him all bundled up, while she herself was just in her T-shirt, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Expecting a cold spell, Justin?"
Justin unzipped his coat again as he sat down. It was truly a beautiful morning.
Brother Perpetiël had woken both of them up earlier while it was still pitch dark. At first, when the giant monk pulled his blanket off and had ordered him out of bed, Justin had not remembered where he was. He had shivered and moaned in unintelligible tones it was mean of his father to wake him up so early on Saturday. He didn't need to go to school today, his body still heavy and tired, and he demanded his blanket back. But when Brother Perpetiël answered him with a booming chuckle that Justin's father was nowhere near, and that he was needed to stand up against the Shadow Walkers, Justin woke up with a shock and stared wide-eyed into the smiling eyes of the monk.
He remembered… he was in the monastery of the Guardians of the Sacred Tome.
After a simple breakfast with bread and milk, Brother Perpetiël explained that Abbot Hofniel wanted to see them both. He was already waiting for them in the garden and Brother Perpetiël was eager to bring them.
The Abbot was not dressed like the other monks. Instead of wearing the familiar fight suit, he was wearing a long, brown cowl, much more in line with what Justin expected a normal monk to wear. The old man even wore sandals. Maybe that was to show his rank as leader of the monastery. But, like the others, he too had his hair shaved in the same way, and there was nothing extravagant about him. How unlike other leaders Justin had seen on television, that often wore pompous outfits too show their importance.
When they entered the garden, the Abbot looked up and when Amy mumbled, "Good morning, Mr. Abbot," he gave them a warm smile.
"So young Justin…," the Abbot began, "I am glad to have this time with you."
Why everyone kept calling him young Justin was a mystery to Justin. He wasn't any younger than Amy and although Justin was certain it was not meant as a derogatory statement, still it made him feel small. Maybe he should learn to see it as a compliment, rather than a sign of his incompetency.
"It's an honor, Sir," Justin replied, not knowing what else to say.
The Abbot chuckled. "Just call me Brother Hofniel. I am not Mr. Abbot, nor am I Sir." He turned his
attention to Amy and nodded to her. "I am glad you are here too, Amy. I've heard a lot about both of you."
Justin raised his eyebrows. "You have?" he asked, not understanding why these warrior monks would be so interested in him and Amy, and from where had they had gotten their information?
"I did, Justin," the Abbot said with a twinkle in his eyes,” but…," he was quick to add, "…only good things, really." He coughed a little, producing a wheeze and a peep and he continued. "Sorry… my health is waning a bit. My lungs don't work as well as they once did. Next week I will have my 104th birthday you know."
Justin gasped and cried out, "That's so old… and you still look so fit."
The Abbot cast him a grateful smile. "Thank you, young Justin. It is kind of you to say so, but believe me, my better years are behind me, although…," he chuckled again, "… the best is yet to come. It won't be long before I will cross the river."
Justin nodded respectfully.
The Abbot cleared his throat again. "I understand that Brother Perpetiël has told you a lot about our Order already, has he not?"
"Yes, Brother Hofniel. He has."
The old Abbot leaned back on the bench that was placed right against the stone wall of the monastery, stretched out his hand and pointed to the garden. "Isn't this garden lovely?" he asked again.
Justin turned his head to take a better look and nodded. It was indeed a beautiful garden, although he did not understand why the old man was babbling about his garden. The place was well kept. A carefully mowed circular lawn with a stone path around it, stretched out for about twenty yards, right up to where it reached a massive wall of rock that rose from the ground as a sentry, guarding the monastery from the evil of the world. The path itself was lined with apple trees and flowering bushes. Right near the end of the garden, the monks had planted several rosebushes and luscious shrubs, while flowery vines climbed up to the rocks. The happy chatter in the vines and shrubs indicated the place had become the home for several families of cooing doves. It was indeed surprising to find such a lovely, peaceful garden right in the middle of the savage terrain of the Wintervale Mountains.
"You know who made the first garden?" The Abbot asked while he narrowed his eyes.
Justin frowned. "I have no idea." He thought for a moment. "I guess the Babylonians. They made their famous hanging gardens."
"Close," the Abbot said with a grin, "but not close enough."
"It was God," Amy piped up.
The Abbot nodded. "Very good, Amy. You are a smart girl. God made the first garden, and then he told the first humans to take care of it. And one of the main jobs in taking care of a garden is to get rid of the weeds. That's hard work, and requires a faithful gardener."
"Sure," Justin said, not sure why the Abbot was telling them that.
The Abbot could tell Justin did not yet understand. He looked up and pointed his finger at Justin. "You, young Justin, are a gardener too."
Justin frowned. "No, Sir, with all due respect. I don't even like gardening. That's my Mom's job. I just attend high school."
The Abbot shook his head. "Things are not as they seem, young Justin. You may not know you are a gardener, but you are. Let me speak plainly."
He leaned forward, coughed some more and said, "We've had our eyes on you for some time. We believe you are to rid this area of the weeds that are cropping up here. Weeds that are sown by the Shadow Walkers." He peered at Justin. "You know about them, don't you?"
Justin blushed. "A little bit… much is unclear." He felt Amy's hand clasping his. It felt good.
The Abbot pressed his thin lips together. "You, young Justin, need to help us fight them."
Justin wasn't sure he had heard right. What could he do against such horrible people?
"Why me? I can't do a thing."
The Abbot gave him a small nod. "I understand your concerns, young Justin. If it weren't for much prayer and communication with the King of Heaven, I would have never asked you such a thing. He made it clear there's a breach in the wall, and somebody needs to stand in the gap to stop the influx of evil."
"A breach in the wall? What wall?"
"Imagine there's a rich, fertile field. There's a strong wall around the field which protects it from a dirty, polluted stream, right outside the field. The stream is filled with poisonous chemicals. Now, as long as that wall is sturdy and strong, there's no harm done, but what happens if there's a breach in the wall? The poisonous waters will flood the garden, destroy the crops and kill the land. So what do you do in that case?"
"You stop up the hole," Justin was quick to answer. "You make sure that breach is repaired."
The Abbot nodded. "That's true, young Justin." He looked up and his eyes held a gentle smile. "We believe Dewsbury is like that fruitful garden. The Shadow Walkers are like the poisonous stream around it, and there's now a hole in the protective wall. It is our conviction that you are the one that needs to stand in the gap." He hesitated and looked at Amy. "Actually… we believe it includes you too, Amy."
Justin's throat felt dry, and his voice came out as a croak. "I do not understand."
The Abbot leaned back again, pointed at a small pocket Bible that was lying next to him on the bench and said, "I looked for someone among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it." *
Both Amy and Justin looked surprised. "What does that mean?" Amy asked.
"It's a passage of scripture from the prophet Ezekiel," the Abbot explained. "Long ago there was a time when God's people were very disobedient to what God wanted them to do. As a result the wall of spiritual protection around them was crumbling. God told the people by the mouth of the prophet Ezekiel, that He was looking for someone to stand in the gap to withstand the flood of evil that was about to immerse the land."
"And?"
"In Ezekiel's case, God could find no one, and God's judgments soon followed. But in this case I believe He found you."
Justin felt the urge rising to laugh, but he suppressed it, as it appeared the Abbot was deadly serious. Still, this was ridiculous. He didn't even believe in God.
The Abbot understood. He peered at Justin and said, "I know it's hard for you to understand, Justin." A weak smile appeared around his lips. "You think you don't even believe in God."
"That's true… I-I don't." Justin mumbled. "At least… I don't think I do."
Abbot Hofniel nodded. "Let me suggest, that that's possibly because you haven't really met the real God yet. Could it be that the picture you have of the King of Heaven is entirely the wrong picture, and is based on a worldly, selfish view of what God is really like?"
Justin's mind was twisting and turning. Knowing these monks could read your thoughts was highly uncomfortable at times. "Maybe," he said in a lame voice.
The Abbot continued, and although his eyes were still friendly his voice was serious. "It's my hope we can adjust your ideas about the King of Heaven a bit. But let me explain why we think you are that gardener that we spoke about." He paused for a moment as he had to cough again. "Not long ago, young Justin, after we had found out about the evil plans the Shadow Walkers had for Dewsbury, we had a time of fasting and praying. In one of our meetings, we saw a vision. A beautiful vision, and I will tell you what we saw."
Both Justin and Amy leaned closer, so as to not miss a word.
"In our vision, we saw the wall of what appeared to be a peaceful and beautiful, ancient city. But outside the city there was no beauty. There was the sound of war, and there were flames and dark clouds. A frightening army of the enemy was on the rise and had somehow broken down the city's wall of defense. There was a terrible breach in the wall and the enemy was about to enter the city. But then, just as the first enemy soldiers wanted to enter the gap, out of nowhere there appeared a young knight. He was wearing majestic silver armor and wielded a mighty sword. His presence radiated light and power and at the first sight of him the enemy fell back. As long as he was
standing in the gap the enemy dared not enter and others came to repair the gap in the wall. In the end the city was saved from destruction."
The Abbot stopped and looked at Justin and Amy. They both stared wide-eyed at the Abbot.
"Well… that's it," the Abbot continued.
"What does it mean?" Justin asked, although he already knew the answer.
"You know what it means," the Abbot replied. "We believe you two are the ones that will have to stand in the gap, and stop the Shadow Walkers from polluting this world. It's their goal to take over the youth of Dewsbury. They, combined with their wicked shape-shifting abilities, want to integrate society and set up a stronghold for their leader, the Lord of Darkness."
Justin shivered. The Abbot was deadly serious. This was no joke, and these monks actually believed that he and Amy were to stand up against these terrible demons. His face had become as white as a sheet as he stammered, "But I am afraid of the Shadow Walkers. After seeing the power with which Rodeo attacked Brother Perpetiël I've seen more than enough." He shook his head in dismay. "Tell me, this is all a joke."
The Abbot shook his head. "No, young Justin. This is not a joke. I never tell jokes."
Justin looked up again, still holding Amy's hand. "But… why can't your monks stand in that so-called gap. They have the power. I've seen Brother Perpetiël in action."
"They do have power," the Abbot replied, "and they will help you all they can, but the King of Heaven wants you to carry the torch. The victory can only be achieved through the strength of youth." He licked his thin lips and looked straight into Justin's eyes. "Have you noticed anything since you've been here?"
Justin frowned. "No, not really… ," he thought for some time and at last he mumbled. "You all seem very devoted and you are not involved in any worldly activities. It's nice here, and except for the Stix pancakes, I have not seen anything unusual."
"Something about us monks, maybe?" Abbot Hofniel queried.
