Kali's Regress

by Mark Boliek

  Chapter 17

  “Let's go!” Michael bellowed. “We gotta get out of here!”

  JT grabbed Arthur and, in the fracas, all four of them disappeared into the crowd, making their way to the structure Kali had pointed out.

  The day had turned bitterly cold. Everyone’s teeth chattered as they trudged through the snow and ice to the structure.

  The crowd continued its confused struggle, but the kingdom's castle—and this massive structure that waited for them—stood stoic against the frigid blue of the day.

  The building, a towering structure made of stone, but was remarkable for its sheer mass. Large spires spiked through the blue sky and its central peak vanished into the air as though it touched the roof of Bruinduer. Large windows of colored glass covered the outside. It may have looked bleak to passersby, but, from a distance, the expansive windows reflected the character and beauty of the medieval village it occupied.

  The four travelers had a hard time seeing that reflection, as they bent their heads to shield themselves from the wind that cut through the streets of the town and threatened any exposed skin. Even if they had seen the reflection, they would have seen a village in turmoil and disarray.

  JT reached the building and plowed through the door, where heat instantly enveloped him. His friends followed one by one, breathing deeply of the sweet smell of flowers and perfume. They walked into the great room of the empty building.

  “Is this a church?” JT asked instinctively. It reminded him of a church, probably because of the distinctive smell.

  Crowded chairs had been spread around a stage with an old wooden table in the middle. JT walked toward the table. He and his companions threw back their fur cloaks in the warmth of the room.

  “I wish I knew what was going on,” JT announced.

  Jenny grabbed Michael's hand. Arthur threw himself into a chair and cradled his head in his hands, fighting hard to hold back his emotions. He could finally think straight and move freely, but his suffering had not ended.

  “Well, the first thing we need to do is give thanks.” An average man dressed in a long grey robe appeared from a side door, carrying a silver pail of liquid and a plate full of crackers.

  “You,” JT announced.

  “Why, yes, it is me. It is the only me that I know.”

  When the man placed his tray in the middle of the table, the four travelers recognized their host from the night before. His smile lit the room and comforted JT, who winked back at the man. JT had a sense it might be Billy in disguise, with him as he had always been with him in his first adventure.

  “I do not know if I deserve the wink, young man, but please join me in this small feast and give thanks to Kwaida for such a wonderful, snowy day.”

  JT, Michael, and Jenny joined the robed man at the table, eating crackers and drinking juice.

  “You all are chosen.” He set the pail down and faced Arthur. “All of you. Even you, my son.”

  Arthur lifted his head, shaking it. “I don't know if that is true. It's been so long since I've even spoken, so long since I made choices and things went wrong. I am young now and can speak freely, yet I feel as though I have no control over anything, including myself.”

  “Come here, drink with us. Feel the renewal in your life. For it is not how you start this journey, but how you finish that matters. Embrace the here and now; relish the opportunity, day, and friends that have been given you.'

  Arthur stood up and warmth engulfed him. JT reached out his hand and the others followed. They gathered around the table in the middle of the room, drank from the pail, and ate from the plate.

  Energy swelled within them and they talked about life.

  “So, I hate to ask this question, but I think you are the only one right now who can really help us.” JT broke the mood of laughter and sharing.

  “I cannot help you, my son,” the old man said. “But I can help you help yourself. You see, there are many things that can answer questions. I assume that your mind is full of questions without any answers.”

  JT paused for a second. His new friend had no idea how right he was. It seemed that, for every time he had acted since Michael found him under the big old oak tree, he had created nothing but a large question mark. He felt as confused as Arthur, though, for some reason, he was better off than him.

  “I think that you know one place and have started looking, but have not really understood the words you've read.”

  JT thought for a second, then knew that Homer meant his grandfather's journal.

  “Right. The old man had some answers in his book, but you have to realize that he was writing down what he experienced, not only what he was feeling.”

  JT peered at his duffel bag and the cover of the journal gleamed from the top of it. He took it out of the satchel and brought it back to the table, astonished at what he saw.

  The journal—just like him, Michael, Jenny, and Arthur—was in much better shape after passing through the mahogany door. It too was much younger and brighter, almost ready to burst with life. Though still worn, it was noticeably newer. The brown leather had just started to fade, but all the pages were tightly bound. The red ribbon, taut around the covers, was slick and strong, not a flimsy string barely holding the pages in the book.

  JT could see the letters on the front cover now, in fine gold print, “Captain's Journal.”

  JT and his traveling companions stared in shock. The journal was complete and could be read.

  “How is this?” JT mumbled.

  “How is a raven like a writing desk?” the man in the robe asked, picking up his trays and leaving the room.

  “It is you!” Excitement reverberated in JT’s voice, even as the man went out the side door.

  “I have been called a lot of things,” the man said, “But I might not be who you think I am. I must tell you that you have probably read the book searching for an answer instead of reading the journal for what it is: a great story, a picture of a moment that echoes through time, and an explanation of why this world is here. I am sure if you look at it as a story, instead of trying to dissect it looking for some gotcha moment, you will discover what you are seeking.”

  “What, like why a raven is like a writing desk?” JT huffed.

  “Among other things,” the man mumbled. Then he was gone.

  Michael walked over to JT at the table and Jenny patted him on the back. Then Michael glanced at Jenny, who nodded in approval.

  “JT,” Michael said. His tight voice caught in his throat. “I just want to tell you that I am sorry.”

  “About what?” JT asked as he flipped through the journal's pages, still amazed at their newness.

  “I've been waiting for a good time, and I can't wait any longer. I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry for bringing all of this on you. I know it was a burden you never expected.” Michael looked at Arthur, too. “It's all my fault.” Michael hung his head. “I think I can really help you, but I also know you can’t trust me for anything. I just want you to know that you can rely me.”

  JT said nothing.

  Michael reached for the journal. “Let me help you, JT. I really can help, even though I know you don't think I can. We can get Kali and go home.”

  “Then what?” JT asked. “Then what do we do? Does someone else come back into Bruinduer so I find out some more bad things in my life and have to hunt down some other madman?” JT paused for a second. He felt his temper start to rise. “I wish you had never come to the farm.” JT tried to catch himself before he muttered the words, but it was too late. Michael let go of the edge of the journal and walked out through the same door the robed man had used.

  Jenny started after him.

  “Just let him go, Jenny,” Arthur said, standing up straight and crossing to JT.

  “I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, JT,” Arthur said in a low voice, which shook all the same. “I have been moping, wondering what has been happening to me since I've been back here, wherever this i
s, when I should be worried about my daughter. It doesn't matter who's right or who's wrong. It doesn't matter what we need to put aside to get the job done. I should be glad that I'm here. I'm here to have a chance to help my daughter.”

  JT stood, gripping the journal. He understood, but he had always wondered, Why now? Why is this happening to me now?

  “It's just life, JT. It throws you curves and you have to deal with it, Enjoy it while you can, because, trust me, it'll be over before you know. Even when the time comes to shut your eyes and go wherever it is we go, embrace it until the end.” Arthur put his hand on JT's shoulder. Jenny walked over to them.

  “Go to Michael, JT,” Jenny whispered. “All he's ever wanted was to be your friend, to make you proud of him. You were always there for him. Now, he just wants to be there for you.”

  JT turned and walked toward the door where Michael had walked out. Jenny had a point. And he knew in the back of his mind that he couldn't get Kali back by himself.

  As JT passed through the door, the building shook. The wind howled and the snow outside churned, whitening the windows. The door of the building flew open and the chill was instant. The smell of the perfume turned to the smell of winter, like the walls of a deep, dark, damp, empty cave.

  The cold didn't bite. The cold paralyzed.