by Julian Cheek
“Where the…” he began, totally confused. The fact that all his surroundings of the night before were nowhere to be seen did not register; instead he found himself seeing this place as a fact, and one that he was trying to figure out how to escape from. Sam peered again out of the hole in the cliff face and started to look around to get his bearings. Somehow he had to get out from this perch he found himself on, and try to find help somewhere. The “how” or “why” of the situation, for now, evaded him.
Looking down, he saw only a deep, dank mist bank, and below that he heard the crashing of the waves on many boulders. “No. Going down was not an option!” he concluded. Looking up and to the side, he noticed that the fissures in the rock face were large enough to use as hand and foot holds, and besides, the mist was less dense above him, partly due to the sunlight filtering through it. “Up it is then,” he stated, looking out to consider his first plan of attack. The fact that he couldn’t see his route clearly or that he may get into difficulties on the bare rock face, and who knows what would happen then, did not play a part in his thinking. These thoughts of self preservation were reserved for a future time, assuming, of course, he survived the next few minutes. Sam reached up and out, slowly, testing the soundness of the vantage points he found, and sensing that they would hold him, he stepped off his safety platform and started to climb.
As is normal in a dream, the disappearance of his familiar surroundings, his bed and bathroom, and indeed, the lack of any backpack, which had been next to his bed when he went to sleep, failed to make any impact on him. It was if where he was now was where he “should be” and he did not have the wherewithal to challenge it.
Sam crept up the face slowly and carefully, at first being very aware of searching out his next grip point, the adrenalin coursing through his body, preventing any other emotion or thought to hold fort. The wind had picked up slightly and it was now whipping around his face and lifting his coat up to be buffeted around him, threatening to dislodge him from his precarious position. Occasionally, as he climbed higher, a few clippings and larger sections of rock came free beneath his fingers and fell to the sea below, but each time, his balance was such that this did little to disrupt him. What did disrupt him was when he lifted himself up so that his face was level with a small recess in the rock face, and the largest seagull he had ever seen chose that moment to fly off the same recess, flapping his wings and screeching into the air in disgust. Sam reflexively ducked his head beneath his shoulder and in the process, lost his grip and started to slip and fall off the mountain. His fall lasted a few seconds only as his feet were stopped on a small outcropping, but the shock of it brought him crashing to the reality of the situation he had put himself in. Halfway up a near vertical cliff face with the sound of deadly waves below him and who knows what awaiting him above, he rebuked himself for the utter stupidity of his actions. “Sam, without doubt the most hare-brained, stupid position you have ever put yourself in. If you fall, you die, if you climb, you probably die also. Nice one… again!” Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth, rubbed the dirt and blood off his hands on the rock face, and proceeded to climb up again, wary this time for birds.
As he continued, he passed a few other roosting ledges, thankfully clear of birds but with feathers and guano spread about indicating that the nesting places were being used. The odd sound of a seagull cry broke through the air, warning Sam off, but otherwise they left him alone. Sam continued to climb, slowly but surely working his way up the cliff face, looking out for his next hand or foot grip until he started to notice a subtle change in the incline. More grasses started to appear and his passage increased in speed until at last, he found himself able to stand on a grassy patch, then, reaching the top, he was able to stop and pause for breath and allow his heart to stop trip-hammering in his chest.
As he slowly gazed at his surroundings, he was surprised that some things appeared to be familiar to him. To his left and off in the middle distance, he saw a few hills disappearing into a tree line. Something in his mind was trying to register that the view itself was strange, but at first he couldn’t put his finger on it. To his right, and looking down the valley, he saw what had tickled his mind as being familiar. There, nestled in the lap of the landscape, a lake glistened and shimmered. It was the same lake he had seen when he was introduced to…. Now what was his name? he thought. “Pit! That’s it. Pit,” he said. “He introduced me to the village folk who lived there. Now I am on the opposite side.” And peering intently, he could see the village across the lake, shimmering slightly in the heat haze. Again, no mist blocked his view, but as his gaze moved further past the village and on to the tree line beyond, the mist was cloaked again, silent and brooding. The same as he had seen below him. Below him! Something clicked in his mind and he peered back down the rock face from where he had just climbed. Strangely enough, he could see his route clearly, going all the way down to the cave entrance, but beyond that, the mist was impenetrable. What is it about this mist? he thought. Why can I see clearly in some directions, but elsewhere, it is thick as a pea-souper? Sam could sense that there was some link about this, but it evaded his mind for now as if swirling just out of arm’s reach, just like the mist.
Sam stared down into the mist bank below him, the sounds of the waves and gulls bouncing off the rock faces and his thoughts floating in and out of his consciousness. Snapping back into reality, he decided to turn and head to the village on the other side of the lake. He was still musing over why the mist was not acting at all like mist should as he walked down to the lake edge and started to follow its banks towards the village. The day was bright and the air was calmer compared to when he was trying to climb earlier. The waves of the lake were lapping gently against the shore, giving off a calming zen-like noise. Off in the distance, near the middle of the waters, a few fishing boats were seen, the men throwing their nets into the water and the sound of shouted commands and chatter carried over the water to him in snatches. Normality appeared to rest in this place, but something was tickling his sixth sense. The scenery looked perfectly normal, for a dream, but it was almost as if the picture was fake. Something’s not right! he thought. I feel like someone has thrown a large sheet over a building and then painted another scene on the sheet. One is aware of a shape behind the picture, but the picture takes over. It’s almost as if someone was deliberately trying to conceal reality from the viewer.
Sam was aware of something else. Energy fields, if that were possible, that coalesced just beyond his perception, but enough for him to look around carefully, senses on full alert.
As he continued around the lake he started to hear the sound of falling water. It gradually became louder and more intense. Deeper, booming tones and light high-note tinkles linked in together creating the sound of a waterfall. The trees and foliage blocked his view off to the right but the sound was unmistakeable. Sam eventually came out into a clearing and noticed the water of the lake bubbling and spitting and crashing across a few boulders. As he approached, he saw what was causing the commotion. The lake did indeed funnel itself into a tighter flow, which, after a short journey, hurled itself over the edge of the cliff and fell down and down to smash itself into the rocks below, hidden from view. But what a sight it was. Clear water, powerful and determined, pouring itself in one final leap out from the confines of the lake to join finally with the ultimate power of the crashing sea below. Sam had to stop to take in the scene. Hands on hips, he revelled at the taste of the spray on his lips and the feeling of the droplets on his face.
In an unconscious gesture, he reached up to his neck to undo the buttons of his shirt to allow the spray to cool him down even further. It was then that his fingers felt an object resting on his neck that was not there in the hotel. “That charm necklace!” he exclaimed, feeling the strips of leather between his fingers. “How on earth has that reappeared?” His fingers came to rest on the smooth length of what he recognised as the pipe by which he had called Babu the last time he was there. I w
onder… he thought. And, lifting the thin pipe to his lips, he drew a deep breath, and blew.
As before, a deep, melodic, thrumming noise emanated from the end of the pipe and he could sense the air around him fold and play with the shape of the sound, forming it, building upon it and increasing its intensity. It did not become louder so much as “deeper” somehow. More expansive, more powerful until the very air around him seemed to crackle with the resonance.
Off to his left and back where he had first come from earlier, he heard the sound of the undergrowth parting, as if a large animal was pounding towards him. He looked back from where he had come from in some shock to see the grasses bend and break as a line cut a swathe through the landscape heading for him. Arrow straight and just as fast! He stepped back defensively and through natural self-preservational instinct as this line seemed to gather pace, his fear growing as all manner of dreadful nuances as to what was causing this disruption shot through his mind in a second. All he remembered about this afterwards, was how very fast the line was approaching him.
Suddenly, the line stopped dead a few metres from where he stood. There was no sound coming from the spot, no smoke, no evidence of anything that had caused this bullet to be sent his way. Just a slight sighing as the grasses eased around whatever hid beneath his line of sight within the grasses. And then, Babu peeked out of the undergrowth, looking straight at him with those same, deeply intelligent, and now questioning eyes. Its tongue was hanging out between those now familiar yet still scary fangs as the body strained to get more oxygen and Sam could see its rib cage flexing quickly with exertion. Babu’s tail, scaled and shiny, swishing strongly from side to side like that of a snake moving this way and that as it focuses on its prey.
“Babu!” Sam exclaimed. “It’s you!” Needing no further excuse, Babu ran the last few metres and sprang up at Sam, who promptly fell back onto the soft ground, gripping the creature around the midriff both in fright and welcome. “Hello, Babu,” he said. “How are you then?” Had he owned a dog, he would have said the same thing. His greeting coming naturally to him. Babu’s response was anything but!
The words, “Hello, Sam,” came booming into his mind. Without thinking, Sam quickly scuttled up and looked around, wondering who had snuck up behind him, for he knew he had heard something. There was absolutely no one in sight! Sam stared intently into the tree line from where he had just emerged, assuming that perhaps the person was there hidden behind a tree or branch. The place was empty. “Strange,” began Sam.
“We welcome you back.” Now he knew he had heard that! “Come out, whoever you are!” he shouted into the undergrowth. “Show yourself and stop all this malarkey and hiding. Is that you, Ma-aka?” Still nothing moved. After a while of silence he surmised, “Must be another dream anomaly.” His eyes fell down to Babu as if to ask it if it knew who was calling him and, if anything, it appeared as if Babu was looking at him with a very strange and eerie, almost human intelligence. Almost as if it was saying, “Yes? Can I help you?” Which would have been ridiculous of course…
“Can we help, Sam?” This seemed to come from his mind. He didn’t actually hear it. He sensed it this time. Sam saw that Babu had tilted its head as this thought entered his mind, and blink.
“Ha!” he said to himself, “as if…!”
“As if what?” came jumping back.
Sam’s face turned an ashen shade of grey as a thought snapped to attention within him, shouting to be heard. “Babu?” he began, not daring to believe an impossibility, although, in hindsight, accepting that this whole world was an impossibility and so one more into the pot made no difference! “Is that YOU?”
“Who else did you expect it to be?” came the witty response.
“You can talk?”
“No! But we can communicate!”
“Bloody hell!”
“You say that a lot!”
“How cool is this?” Sam proclaimed to the ether. “A mind-melding, super freaky creature, who talks! This dream is awesome!”
“And you can communicate with us in the same way, Sam.” Babu replied, its eyes blinking as if to reinforce what it had said. Sam was awestruck at this new discovery, following his mind through a myriad of permutations as to opportunities and possibilities too numerous to mention. “Hey,” he thought, “I wonder if I can get it to…” He stopped. “Can you hear everything I am thinking?” he asked Babu with some consternation. Babu just gazed into his eyes and replied, “Do you know what we are thinking?” That seemed to settle that particular worry, which, for some reason, had sprung up in his mind. Babu continued. “Communication is one thing, Sam. Thoughts and hopes and ideas are completely another. Ma-aka warned us that you had disappeared into a sea of forgetfulness, so it would appear we need to start again and start quickly. Time is short and we have little time to waste.”
Sam didn’t like the way that last bit sounded and so tried to ignore it by asking a rather surreal series of questions. “Do you mind me asking, Babu, are you a girl or a boy?” As he asked it, he was kicking himself at the same time, wondering why on earth that should be relevant.
“We are neither male nor female, singular or multiple,” Babu replied. “We are what we are and made as we are made. We are melded to you and so, as you are male, we adapt to your maleness. Had we been melded to a female, we would have been similarly adapted.”
That seemed to make some sense to Sam, who continued. “So how far away can you be before you can’t hear me anymore?” Assuming that, like talking, there was a limit to how far away each could be before sound was inefficient. Again, had he thought about it, he would have realised, yet again, what a stupid question it was!
“Whether we are next to you or on the other side of this world, we can hear you when you call. For when we melded we became one, Sam. One! What you say, we hear, and what we say, you hear, when we speak to each other. We are, in effect one and the same, like brothers, if you will. Brothers together and linked forever, regardless of circumstances or events.” The last said by Babu as he reminded Sam of the past few days and how Sam had acted in Babu’s presence.
“But this is just so ridiculous,” Sam said. “How do you expect me to believe all this when I know full well that a dream is just something momentary and, when you wake, everything you have experienced disappears into the mist and all the wonderful things are as nothing, leaving you empty. Empty and alone, just like life.” Sam hung his head as his real life imposed itself on his dreaming and, he found himself bending down to place Babu on the floor. “Brothers?” Sam said quietly, “I have no brothers.” And he walked off towards the waterfall, sadness upon sadness heavy on his shoulders.
His mood didn’t last long! It was his feet that first started to announce that things were not as they should be. A slight vibration under his toes pulsed and permeated under the soil and shot out in waves around him. He noticed that the waves closest to the shore were now quite agitated and the water in the lake was getting choppy. Babu was circling around Sam now, all focus on the surroundings, protecting his charge, his fur bristling and his eyes wide, searching. “We need to move, Sam,” Babu said. “We need to move now!” Sam looked down at Babu and then at the ground around him, which was shaking and moving like a live thing. Stones and pebbles jostled together and some of the larger boulders by the waterfall were dislodged, tumbling end over end down into the churning seas below, crashing heavily as they hit the rock face. The lake was now broiling with anger and the fishing boats were being tossed around like toys in a storm. Strangely though, there were no clouds in the skies above him and the mist banks beyond remained still and impassive. It was the earth itself around him that was active.
“Earthquake!” was the one word that entered his mind. In an instant his attention switched from his predicament to those in the village beyond, and he looked up to see what was happening there. That village, “Baradin”, he recalled, was where he first felt welcomed and he remembered as well that it was where Ngaire had first sp
oken to him about all manner of strange things. It was a place of peace and a place of welcome. But this time, the children were not playing near the lake and the adults were not sitting around the fires. They were running this way and that and screaming to each other. Some shouting out loudly for their children or families, trying to gain some security by being together. As Sam watched, a few of the smaller homes folded in on themselves, smoke and dust rising up as the buildings collapsed. More screams could be heard, but now these were also screams of pain and terror as spars fell and fires started to burn uncontrolled within this small community. Sam noticed a few young ones standing stock still as all around them, chaos started to rain down on them. “Babu,” he began, “we need to go and help them.” And with determination, Sam started to run towards the village, wondering all the while what on earth he could possibly do to help, but running to do so nonetheless.
“It has come!” was the prophetic statement from Babu, and then, all hell broke loose.
From deep within the bowels of the earth, a wrenching, churning noise began and grew in intensity until, with a large thunderclap, the ground underneath one of the large houses, burst up and out like a paper bag being exploded and a huge rent in the ground opened up, swallowing the house and the people around it as quickly as snuffing out a candle. Sam was finding it difficult to keep his balance as the ground around him increased its shaking and oscillating.
