by Ted Dekker
He nodded. “Then I will rescue you.”
“And when you rescue me, I should want another kiss,” she said in complete seriousness.
“A kiss.”
“Yes. A real kiss, not one from your silly dreams. A real kiss for a real woman who has fallen hopelessly in love with you, my dear prince.”
She turned and walked down the path.
Tom walked quickly, if for no reason other than that he was thinking quickly.
Rachelle’s kiss had spawned a whole new thread of possibility. It found its origin in this one thought: What if the two realities were more than just interwoven; what if they depended on each other?
What if what happened in Bangkok depended on what he did here? And what if what happened here depended on what happened in Bangkok? He already knew that if he was healed here, he was healed in Bangkok. And what skills he learned here, he could also use in Bangkok. But to think that the realities might depend on each other . . .
It was a staggering thought. Yet in so many ways it made sense. In fact, he was quite sure he’d come to the same conclusion in Bangkok. If it were another way, the boy would have said so. Elyon would have discouraged his dreams. But he hadn’t . He’d left the choice up to him.
God wasn’t a lamb or a lion or a boy. He was all of them if he chose to be. Or none of them. They were metaphors for the truth.
The truth. One truth. Two sides of one truth. Lion and lamb. The colored forest and Bangkok. Possible?
He still wasn’t sure which reality was real, but he was that much more convinced now that the truth in both realities was real. And he had to be very careful to treat both as real.
Kara had said that.
Of course, this didn’t mean that just because he loved Rachelle he was meant to love Monique. But it was quite possible he was meant to rescue Monique. That was why he was learning how to rescue Rachelle in this Great Romance.
It had to be. And if so, he may have just discovered how to rescue her. Or at least where to rescue her. He should sleep immediately, dream of Bangkok, and test this theory.
Tom stopped on the path. If he was meant to rescue Monique in the histories, then what was he supposed to do here, if this reality also depended on his dreams?
Tom stopped on the path. If Monique was real, wasn’t it possible that Bill was also real? That they really had crash-landed in a spacecraft as Teeleh had insisted?
What if that was the only reality?
Maybe everything else was only a dream. He was really from Earth, being terribly affected by this strange planet. His stomach turned. The thought suddenly felt terribly compelling. It would explain everything.
He had to at least eliminate that as a possibility. The only way to know was to return to the black forest. He should at least consider—
“Thomas! Thomas Hunter, there you are!”
Tanis ran out of the forest, waving a crooked red stick in his right hand. “I have looked everywhere for you. Did you enjoy the change this morning?”
“Incredible,” Tom said. “Spectacular!”
“The last time, he split the whole planet in two,” Tanis said. “You may have forgotten, because it was before you lost your memory, but we could see the stars above and below. Then the fissure filled halfway with water and we dived. The dive itself lasted a full hour.” Tanis chuckled and shook his head.
“That’s amazing,” Thomas said.
“This?” Tanis waved the stick. “You like it?”
“I meant your story’s amazing—falling for an hour. What is that?”
“Well, it’s something I’ve come up with based on something I remember from the histories. Maybe you know what it’s called.” He held it up proudly.
It was a stick, shaped and bent like waves with a hook on the end.
Tom shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I recognize it. What does it do?”
“It’s a weapon!” Tanis cried. He jabbed the air like a clumsy swordsman. “A weapon to scare off the vermin!”
“Why would that work?”
“You don’t know? The Shataiki are terrified of the colored forest. This is a weapon from the colored forest. It follows that they would be terrified of it as well. We could use these weapons on our expedition.”
Thomas took the device. It was a sword of sorts from the histories. A very poor one. But the fact that it was made from the colored wood made for some interesting applications. Tom could hardly forget Teeleh’s reaction to the small piece of colored wood from Johan.
Thomas swung the sword. It had an awkward feel. He looked at Tanis, saw the man was watching him with interest.
“This is called a sword. But You’ve forgotten to give it a sharp edge.”
Tanis jumped forward. “Show me.”
“Well, it needs to be flat here and sharp along this edge so that it can cut.”
Tanis reached for the sword. “May I?”
Tom gave it to him. The man went to work with his hands. He was a storyteller, not a craftsman, but he had enough basic skill to quickly reshape the sword by coaxing the wood into what looked more like a sword. Tom watched, confounded by the sight. Rachelle had explained the process to him, but he’d failed miserably at all of his own attempts. Reshaping molecules with his fingers was something he would evidently have to relearn.
“There!” Tanis shoved out the sword.
Tom took it and ran his fingers along the now flat, sharp blade. Amazing. This in a matter of moments. What else could Tanis build with the proper guidance?
Tom felt a stab of caution.
“It would never work.” He tossed the sword back to Tanis. “Remember, I’ve been in the black forest. One small sword against a million Shataiki—not a chance. Even if they are afraid of the wood.”
“Agreed!” Tanis said. “It would never work.” He hurled the sword into the forest. It clattered against a tree and fell to the ground.
“Now, about the histories—”
“I don’t want to talk about the histories right now,” Tom said.
“Your dreams are wearing you out? I understand completely. Then more training. As my apprentice, you have to apply yourself, Thomas Hunter. You’re a quick study, I saw that the first time you attempted my double-back, but with the right practice you could be a master! Rachelle has taught you some new moves. Show me.” He clapped twice.
“Right here?”
“Unless you’d rather do it in the village square.”
Tom glanced around. They were in a small meadow. Birds chirped. A white lion watched them lazily from where it lay by a tall topaz blue tree.
“Okay.” Tom took two long steps, launched himself into the air, twisted, and rolled into a forward flip. He landed squarely on his feet, back to imaginary opponent. Amazing how easy it felt.
“Bravo! Wonderful. I call that the reverse, because your opponent will never see your heel coming around on the flip. It would knock a black bat dizzy. Here, tear your tunic up the thigh to give you more freedom of movement.”
Tom did so. The leather pants they often wore wouldn’t present this challenge, but the tunics could be restrictive during wild kicks.
“Good. Show me another.”
Tom showed him five more moves.
“Now,” Tanis said, stepping forward. “Hit me!”
“I can’t hit you! Why would I want to hit you?”
“Training, my apprentice. Defense. I will pretend you are a bat. You’re bigger than a bat, of course, so I’ll pretend you’re three bats, standing on each other’s shoulders. Now, you come for me and try to hit me, and I’ll show you how to protect yourself.”
“Sparring,” Tom said.
“What?”
“It was called sparring in the histories.”
“Sparring! I love it! Let’s do some sparring.”
They sparred for a long time, a couple of hours at least. It was the first time Thomas had been exposed to the full breadth of the fight method developed by Tanis, and it made the martial arts of his dreams
feel simple by comparison.
True, all aerial maneuvers were easier here, in part, presumably, because of the atmosphere. But he suspected the moves were easier also because of the method itself. Hand-to-hand combat was far more about the mind than muscle, and Tanis had both in abundance. Not once was Thomas able to land a blow on the leader, though he got closer with each attempt.
Amazingly, Tom’s stamina seemed nearly inexhaustible. He was growing stronger by the day. Recovering from his fall in the black forest.
“Enough,” Thomas finally said.
Tanis lifted a finger. “Enough for the day. But you are improving with astonishing speed. I am proud to call you my apprentice. Now” —he put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and turned him toward the forest—“we must talk.”
The histories. The man was incorrigible.
“Tell me, what kind of weapon do you think would work against the Shataiki?”
“Tanis, have you ever confronted the Shataiki? Have you ever even stood on the banks of the river and watched them?”
“I’ve watched them from a distance, yes. Black bats with talons that look like they could pop a head off in short order.”
“But why haven’t you gone closer, if you know they can’t cross the river to harm you?”
“Where’s the wisdom in that? They are tricky beasts; surely You’ve seen that. I would think that even to talk to them could prove fatal. They would employ all sorts of connivances to trick you into their water. Honestly, I am astounded you survived yourself.”
“If you know all of this, why are you so adamant about an expedition? It would be suicide!”
“Well, I wouldn’t talk to them! And you survived! Also, you know many things that might shift the balance of power. Before you came to us, I might never have seriously considered an attack, even though I wrote many stories about it. With your knowledge, we can defeat the vermin, Thomas! I know it!”
“No! We can’t !They fight against the heart, not measly swords!”
“You think I don’t know this? But tell me, wasn’t it true that in the histories there was a device that could level the entire black forest in one moment?”
A nuclear bomb. Of course, any use of a nuclear weapon would be a landmark recorded in the histories.
“Yes. It was called a nuclear bomb. Do you know when such a device was used in the histories?”
“Not specifically,” Tanis said. “Several times, if I remember. But mostly after the Great Deception. In the time of the tribulations. Are you saying that even with such a device we couldn’t destroy the Shataiki?”
Tom considered this. He looked to the east where the black forest waited in darkness. What was it Michal had said? The primary difference between this reality and the histories was that here everything found an immediate expression in physical reality. You could virtually touch Elyon by entering his water. You could see evil in the Shataiki. So maybe Tanis was on to something. Maybe evil could be wiped out with the right weapons.
Tom shook his head. It sounded wrong. All wrong.
“I’m not suggesting this nuclear bomb,” Tanis said. “But I’m making a point. What about a gun, as you call it? With enough guns, couldn’t we hold them off at the river?”
A gun. Thomas shrugged. “A gun is only a small device. They come in bigger sizes but . . . this is ridiculous. Even if I could figure out how to make a gun, I wouldn’t .”
“But you could, couldn’t you?”
Possible. He couldn’t bring a gun here, of course. Nothing physical had ever followed him in his dreams. But knowledge . . .
“Maybe.”
“Then think about it. It might be a useless idea, I must agree. But sending the lot of those beasts scrambling is a thought worth savoring. I have something else that you must see, Thomas. Come.”
He steered Tom to the forest, not the least bit put off or discouraged by Tom’s dismissal of his ideas.
“Now? Where?”
“Just here by the river that leads from the lake. I have an invention you must help us try.”
He headed into the forest, and Tom hurried to catch him. “Who is ‘us’?” Tom asked.
“Johan. He is my first recruit. We have made something that an adventuresome soul like you will appreciate. Hurry. He is to meet us there.” Tanis began to run.
They broke out onto the banks of a river slightly smaller than the one at the black forest. Johan sat on a large yellow log they’d felled. He jumped to his feet and ran for Thomas.
“Thomas! First we fly, and now we float.” He hugged Tom’s waist. “Did you see the stick Tanis made? Where is the stick, Tanis?”
“I threw it into the forest,” the elder said. “Thomas said it was a terrible idea, and I agreed. It would never work.”
“Then how will we—”
“Exactly!” Tanis boomed. He stuck a finger in the air. “We won’t !”
“We won’t float our log down the river to attack the Shataiki?”
“That’s what you were planning?” Tom asked. He looked at the tree and saw that they’d hollowed out half of it. He’d dreamed about one of these. It was a canoe.
“It was an idea,” Tanis said. “We talked it up yesterday and we shaped this log so that it might float, but the sword was a bad idea, you said so yourself. Don’t tell me you want me to fashion another, because I really am having my doubts about it now. Unless we could send a bomb down the river in this log.”
They both stared at Tom with round green eyes. Innocent to the bone. But still filled with desire. The desire to create, the desire to romance, to eat, to drink, to swim in Elyon’s lake.
The tension between satisfaction and desire was odd, to be sure. Dissatisfaction led to mischief as well as good.
He faced Johan. “Do you want to take this canoe onto the water?”
His eyes lit up. “Yes.”
“And would you be unhappy if we didn’t try?”
Johan cast a blank stare. “Unhappy?”
“What on earth are you talking about, man?” Tanis boomed. “You’re speaking in riddles here. Is this a game of wits?” He seemed quite taken with the idea.
“No, not a game. Just my memory. A way to help my recollection of the way things are. There is happy, so there must be unhappy. There is good, so there must be evil. I was simply asking if Johan here would be unhappy if we didn’t push the boat onto the water.”
“Yes, there is evil, and we dispatch it regularly. And since there is happy, there must be unhappy too. I can see what you’re saying. I feel anger at the bats, of course, but unhappy? You have me tied in a knot, Thomas Hunter. Help me out.”
They felt desire without dissatisfaction, Tom thought. The best of both worlds.
He, on the other hand, did feel dissatisfaction. Or at least unsatisfaction. Perhaps because he’d been in the black forest. He hadn’t taken a drink of the water, but he’d been in there, and his mind had been affected somehow.
Either that, or he wasn’t from this place at all. He’d come in a spaceship.
“Just a story, Tanis,” Thomas said. “Just an idea.”
Tanis exchanged a glance with the boy. Then back. An idea.
“Well then, should we give it a try?”
Johan started jumping in anticipation. The invention was quite an event. Thomas ran his hand along the canoe.
“How will you steer it?”
“With the sword,” Tanis said. “But I think any good stick would do.”
“And how did you bring the tree down?”
“As we always do. With our hands.”
“Okay, let’s give it a try.”
They tied a vine around its bow and then to a tree on the bank. Tom braced himself. “Are you ready?”
“Ready!” they both cried.
Together they heaved and watched the glowing yellow canoe slip out into the running water. “It works!” Tanis beamed. But almost as soon as he said it, the boat began to sink. Within a few seconds, it had disappeared under the gurgling g
reen waters.
“It’s too heavy,” Tom said with a frown.
Tanis and Johan stared at the bubbles that still broke the surface. “Another story sinks,” Tanis said.
Johan found this so funny that he dropped first to his knees and then to his back in uncontrolled fits of laughter. Tanis was soon joining in, and they quickly turned the laughing fits into a game of sorts: who could laugh the longest without taking a breath.
Tom tried, at their urging, and lost handsomely.
“Well, now,” Tanis finally said, “what do you say we try another tomorrow?”
“I would find something else,” Tom said. “I really don’t think floating down to the black forest is such a great idea anyway.”
“Perhaps you are right.”
“Tanis?”
“Yes, what is it?”
“Rachelle told me of a fruit that makes you sleep so deeply that you don’t remember your dreams.”
“So deep that you don’t even dream,” he said. “Would you like me to find you some?”
“No. No, I need to dream. But is there also fruit that just makes you sleep?”
“And still dream?”
“Yes.”
“Of course!”
“The nanka!” Johan cried. “Do you want some?”
An amazing thought. To be able to enter his dreams at will. Or to turn them off by not dreaming.
“Yes. Yes, I would like that. Maybe one of each.”
26
What?” Tom sat up on the couch.
“Sorry, you said five hours, but I fell asleep,” Kara said. “It’s been eight.”
“What time is it?”
“Close to noon. What is it? You look like You’ve seen a ghost.”
His head swam. “Am I a ghost?”
Kara ignored the question. “You found something out, didn’t you? What is it?”
Tom rolled off the couch and stood. “I think I can turn off my dreams,” he said.
“Completely?”
“Yes, completely. Not here. There. I can stop dreaming of this.”
“And what good would that do you? This is pretty important.”
“This is also a major distraction to me. I’m trying to remember my life, and instead I keep running up against this.”
