The Awakened

by Julian Cheek

  Babu skipped across without a care, arriving safely on the other side where he joined Ma-aka, sitting down by his side. Sam was sure he was daring him to man up!

  “Right then,” he said to himself. “In for a penny and all that.” And Sam took his first step onto the rotten looking planks, taking him over hell’s cauldron, the waters just waiting to get him and throw him over the waterfall with delight!

  The bridge creaked and waved like an old banshee but Sam managed to make his way over, not daring to look down at the turbulent waters within arm’s length of his shoes. He kept his eyes firmly on the party waiting for him on the opposite shore until finally he reached the other side to a bear-hug welcome from Ma-aka.

  The next few minutes were lost in both trying to speak and ask questions and discuss what had happened recently, until Ma-aka lifted his hands to bring some silence to bear. “Sam,” he said, “it makes my heart glad to see you again. You seem to have a habit of disappearing. Perhaps this time, for a while at least, you will deign to stay here and be welcomed. This,” he said, extending his arm back along a path behind him, “is the village of my tribe. Welcome to Watamka, my home.” And with that he turned back, a slight shrug telling his Padme to fly off its perch and scan the area around them, circling and swooping as they made their way through the forested area, mist around them, a clear, arrow-straight path behind them, and on towards his village.

  The forest slowly started to thin out and Sam saw the beginnings of what appeared to be a strong, well-defended palisade of stout trunks, all tied together and acting as a protection for what lay beyond. As in the village of Rudhjanda, Watamka had a natural defensive river bed around it, however, here at least, the banks contained a river which flowed past its main gate. A wooden draw bridge had been lowered, affording access over it and, as Sam and Ma-aka slowly approached, some of the village folk started to gather around them, all without exception, looking at Sam in recognition and hope. A few hands reached out towards him as if to touch his clothing. Sam was not used to any form of attention like this, but, he remained respectful of his friend, Ma-aka as leader, and said nothing.

  As they approached, the crowds started to hold back, allowing the bridge to be crossed by their leader and Sam first. Sam was impressed at the love these people seemed to have for Ma-aka as his face roamed the crowds around him, animals and birds of all sorts moving among the throng like a choreographed dance.

  Sam looked up and across the bridge to see what lay beyond, but his eyes were stopped instantly from progressing by the person who stood, slight and petite, within the archway which announced the boundary of Watamka. A small girl, her hair in pigtails, which were shifting in the breeze, held the hand of a young woman, who was looking down at her charge with a smile, and, with one look up for reassurance, the girl let go of the woman’s hand and started to run towards Sam, her arms rising up towards him as she picked up speed to dash towards him.

  “Pania!” Sam shouted. And with a leap, he sprinted forward, closing the gap between the two of them in a few wonderful seconds. She leaped up at him and buried her face in his jacket, tears overcoming her in an instant. For Sam, he just twirled around and around, overjoyed that he had found her safe and well.

  After a moment of pure bliss for Sam, he lowered her to the ground and looked up to follow Ma-aka’s lead. He felt Pania slip her little hand into his, and for once, he did not try to release it, just looked down at her and gave her a deep, welcoming smile. Her grubby face, still lined with tears and messed up hair. For him, a perfect picture. Ma-aka held his arm outstretched towards the archway and said, “After you, Sam. My people are waiting for you.” Sam could not have experienced a more welcoming fanfare had they been blowing trumpets from the ramparts! It seemed that everyone had come out that day to see this person who some had already known, others had already seen what he could do, and still others who had been told of his remarkable and magical powers and wanted to see this man-myth for themselves. Sam was blissfully unaware of all that the people knew. For now, he felt loved, welcome and alive and he disappeared into Watamka, the crowds following him in, hugging and discussing the phenomena that had entered their village.

  Soon, quietness descended around the outside of the palisade wall. The animals of the forest went back to doing what they always did, the river continued to flow past the entranceway, and the gate lifted and was secured, once again, keeping Watamka safe from the dangers around it,

  Peace settled over the area, for the moment.

  Inside, peace certainly was not evident! A raucous, loud throng of villagers gathered around their leader and his guards, all straining to get a glimpse of Sam. Some of them calling out to him in familiar greeting, but they turned away in confusion when Sam looked at them briefly, continuing his gaze around the crowds, not recognising any of them. Already a few were buzzing, starting to question each other. “Is it really true then?” said one. “Does he really have no memory of this place?” said another. “What is to become of us if he is lost to us?” said a third.

  They eventually got to the village square where the crowds moved out into the wider expanse, some climbing up onto higher vantage points, others opening windows and scaling walls to gain a better glimpse of this amazing event, to the consternation of some of the owners of the properties now being used as climbing walls.

  Ma-aka and Sam, with Pania holding tightly to him, stopped at the fountain in the middle of the square and, as if by secret communication, the people started to settle down, the noise levels dying down and extending outward in concentric circles until even those furthest away had stopped their discussions to see what happened next.

  Ma-aka climbed up onto the surrounding of the fountain and turned to face his people. “You have seen, and some of you have heard,” he began, his voice booming into the furthest recesses of the village square. “You have all been party in one respect or another, to the man who stands here before you today,” he pointed down to Sam, continuing. “This is Sam. This is ‘The One’, called from the Shades to rescue Maunga-Atua from ‘He who will not be named’. You saw him in the past and beheld his deeds with wonder and amazement.” Ma-aka paused, looking at Sam, then continued, with some seriousness. “And some of you were with me when we saw him pass into the Kairaki mountains, there to face Lord Elim, and, like me, you were lost in despair when he did not return. We feared he had been defeated and our hopes for freedom and for peace once more were cruelly dashed.” Ma-aka looked down to the ground, trying to find words to explain what was heavy on his heart. “My people, Sam, who you see before you, entered into that den of despair and something happened that lost him to us.” The crowds started to buzz again but Ma-aka held his arms out calling for silence. “Something happened whilst there, that caused Sam to lose himself.” The crowds started talking again, this time ignoring the call to silence from Ma-aka, who had to increase his volume accordingly. “People! Sam was lost, but he is here again. It is our job to unlock that which has been buried away. He did not die when he met Lord Elim, and we know not what happened, but here he stands. Sam-of-the-Shades no longer, but ‘The One’. He has returned and we must have faith that the Ethereals see what we cannot and that this battle has not ended. Sam has returned and we must rejoice, though we see not what can occur to allow him to once more wield the powers he had and may still have. We must have faith and we must have hope, for without either, we are lost. Sam is here, my people. He needs our help and he needs our friendship.” Turning now to Sam, he continued. “Sam. I rejoice that you have returned. I believe in you and I believe in that which I cannot see. But overall, you are more than ‘The One’. To me, to Pania, to Turi, who is forever lost to me, you have become, and always will be, our friend and our brother.” And with that, Ma-aka pulled Sam up to stand alongside him and hugged him tightly, as the throng started to chant and dance around the two men, Pania looking up at them with shyness as the people around her patted her head in acceptance and love.

  Sam was as h
appy as could be expected. Amongst all the throng and dancing, the acceptance and the love, he was grateful that at least this dream world allowed him to forget the loss of David, if only for a brief moment. He saw now how his mind had created this place, to enable him to heal and to provide a platform from which he could hopefully learn to forgive his parents, and David, for leaving him on his own.

  The day lost itself in Sam being ushered from one crowd to the next, always with Pania in attendance, and being asked about his journeys so far, which in itself Sam found difficult to describe. He could sense that they wanted to ask him more questions, but, thankfully, before the questioning became too intense, he was grabbed by yet another group to enter into yet more questions. He had little knowledge of this world and often, places and towns were thrown into conversation by the crowds, and Sam could only look blankly at the people, hoping the question would move away to something else. Not for the first time, he gazed down at Pania, wishing they could just escape for a moment so they could catch up, and, Sam thought, to allow him to let her know that he was here for her, never to leave again.

  As the fires started to light up around the square, a group of older people managed to sideline him off away from the crowds, and, turning their backs to Pania, which infuriated him, they gathered round him in silence for a moment, before one of them, urged by the others, ventured a direct question to him. “Sam,” he began, “as the elders of this village, we share with the others, our joy at receiving you again into our home, and we trust you will feel welcome and one of us, for that is what you are,” he continued, struggling to voice what he was being made to say by the rest. “However, we would like to know why it is you refuse to use those powers given to you by the Ethereal leaders now that you have returned? We would also like to know what you intend to do to stop the Bjarke rampaging through our sister villages, killing, maiming and destroying the innocent.”

  For a moment, Sam was stunned into silence, such was the sting in the questions posed to him. That, and the fact that these strangers had rudely blocked Pania from integrating, as if they were above inviting her into their fold, caused him to react in a somewhat foolish manner. “Actually,” he began, bending down slightly, whilst at the same time, quickly glancing around as if to hide his intentions from others, “the powers have not disappeared!” He fixed the old man with a direct look, his face as straight as a poker. They all, without exception, bent in towards Sam to hear what they hoped was a vindication of their wiseness. “In fact, I have been trying to hold the power back for as long as possible so that any of the enemy who might have infiltrated themselves into this place…” The elders found themselves looking out and around as if, at any moment, one of the Bjarke chose to reveal themselves and pull out some mighty broadsword. Sam was enjoying this immensely! He continued, “…Might send the wrong message back to Lord Elim saying that my powers had indeed been destroyed. However, I can see that you have kept the faith over all the others and so, if you will permit me, I will show you, here, just a little taste of what is to come when we next meet that all-de-stroying Lord Elim.” And with that, he proceeded to swirl and wave his hands around himself, all the while turning around like a spinning top, his voice starting a low chant and his eyes getting larger and larger as his hands and arms whirled themselves into a frenzy until, with dramatic pause, he shot out his hands towards them and said one word…

  “Boo!”

  The elders all flinched as they fully expected some bolt of lightning to explode from Sam’s fingers. Instead, with arms covering their faces and heads, all they got, was the sound of Sam’s high pitched laughter as he walked away, Pania’s hand tight in his, his shoulders shaking with uncontrolled laughter and his back firmly to them.

  “Now Pania,” he said, “how about you and I go and find something to eat in this place and we can spend time together, just the two of us?”

  Sam and Pania found a quiet spot at the top of a flight of stairs, in an alcove in the ramparts. Presumably, thought Sam, for someone to stand and fire at a supposed enemy through the slits in the timber wall. Both Babu and a small ferret clambered up to sit in the slit in the wall, preening themselves as their charges sat down in the dust below them. “Her name is Pugs,” said Pania softly, looking at the ferret. “She has been with me now for the three months of my youth. She is very naughty at times!” This said with mock laughter. Sam smiled to see her feeling relaxed with the creature and could well imagine her stamping her little feet in annoyance when Pugs decided she did not want to be dressed in small clothing, or have to endure a bonnet on her head.

  For a while, Sam and Pania talked about the excitement of the day, with Sam telling her how scared he was at crossing the rickety bridge and how happy he was when he saw her at the entrance to the village. Pania smiled shyly at this. She, in turn, told him how the news arrived at the village when the young man had come screaming in crying that a demon had appeared to them whilst they fished the mighty Manganui-a-te-Ao. How Ma-aka had assembled the men to follow the youth back to the river to see what had appeared to the frightened men on the river. “But I knew it was you,” Pania said with young confidence. “I knew as soon as the man arrived, that you had returned. Ma-aka would not allow me to follow, so I stayed with Marika at the gate, waiting for you to arrive.” Pania shuffled up and curled into Sam’s side, his arm, naturally coming up to draw her closer to himself.

  “Are you…” Pania said with a slight stutter, “are you here to stay now, Sam?” As oftentimes happens, the innocent questions of the youth have the most profound effect. Sam found himself struggling to form an answer that he felt she would be able to grasp, but he knew enough not to lie to the one person here who actually seemed to need him, just as he was.

  “Pania,” he began. “Do you know those times when you wake from a dream (how ironic that someone in a dream can have a dream), and you just can’t remember what it was you were dreaming about, even though it seems it had just happened?” Pania nodded her head. “Well, for me, everything that occurred here when you first knew me is like that. Try as I might, I cannot remember anything, in fact, I am still getting used to all you people talking to me as if I grew up here.” Pania smiled. “You all say that I was chosen and came here with great powers, but, Pania, if that is true, then I am afraid all I had is lost and I have no idea how to get it back. I am just like you in that sense. No different to these people here. Just me, Sam. Grateful that at least you want to be with me.”

  Sam looked up to stare out through the slit and into the misty fields below, which were rapidly being lost in the gathering darkness of night. He continued. “But, this I can promise you, Pania. You and I are closer than brother and sister.” Sam had to swallow hard as he heard his own voice talking of things hard for him to recognise. “I had a brother once and I lost him, Pania.” Sam knew his voice was choking up a bit, but he continued, Pania looking up at him with concern and love. “I lost him, Pania, to a cruel, evil, horrible thing that took him away from me when we still had everything to discover together. He is gone and I will never see him again.” And looking down once more at the quiet form in his lap, he said. “I lost a brother once. I will not lose this, my sister, again.” And he leant forward and kissed her softly on her head.

  Pania just snuggled in tighter to Sam, the silence of the moment, stronger than any bond. Her final words before sleep overtook her, prophetic in the extreme. “We will just have to go and find your powers then.” She yawned as she finished, saying, “If you lost them, we can find them again. Maybe Babu knows where you left them.” And she fell asleep.

  Pugs moved down off her perch and settled down, sitting in Pania’s lap. Babu stayed where he was looking out to the world beyond, scanning, as always, for danger.

  “Do you know?” Sam said to Babu.

  “Have you forgotten how to breathe?” came the instant, cryptic response. Sam screwed up his eyes in confusion. “You breathe without thinking,” Babu continued. “Just because you don’t think ab
out it, does not mean it is lost. Your body takes over, leaving your mind to concentrate on other things. Everything you were and everything you are, remains the same, Sam. Even the strength and power you had when you first came to Maunga-Atua. Lord Elim hasn’t stolen it. You haven’t been stripped of it either. It is a part of you as much as your hair is. What is missing is the means to retrieve it. That is the thing we need to find, and we, for once, are at a loss at the moment as to how we do that.”

  Sam stayed silent for a moment, contemplating. “If this is a dream, perhaps back at home, I need to unlock my acceptance of mum and dad as they are now, which may well then unlock my super powers here. Hah, imagine me, Sam, with a cape, spandex at the ready and the evil lord cowering in fear. Yeah, as IF!” Sam cast the idea aside as easy as a fly. Dreams were dreams and the quicker he moved on, the quicker he could also move on with other dreams.

  He settled down, his eyes growing heavy, but not before Babu said one last thing. “What we need to unlock, is your lack of belief that we exist as surely as you do. You see and yet you do not believe, and yet we are asked to believe without seeing. We do, Sam. We always did.”

  Sam heard no more. His eyelids dropped and he fell into a restful sleep.

  A low, constant thrumming entered into his consciousness. He thought at first that it was the throbbing of the fridge under the café counter, but he was not yet ready to wake up, instead preferring to relax in early morning drowsiness. Unusually though, it did feel particularly cold, which was strange seeing as he was inside. Perhaps Alice had turned the heating off, he thought, moving his head to another position, where it struck a cold, damp wooden post.