The GOD Box

by Melissa Horan

  ___

  Dane was gone. Totally lost. When he looked up from his thoughts hours later, the over-grown jungle was thinning. Dane pulled the map out of his pocket, though he didn’t really need it. He vaguely remembered that coming upon this town there was a wide yellow-grass field. Now that people in other towns might hate, they had to be wary; avoid public places. Mostly Dane just didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions, and give any leads to anyone. This is Jonathan’s fault. They couldn’t see the town yet, but all the better. Dane stopped abruptly and decidedly took a right turn into the trees where the tree line stopped to follow them around the large open field that they would have most assuredly be seen in. This would take longer, but was better than being taken in for questioning. Who could they go see who wouldn’t report their presence? Dane went through a full list in his head.

  Wernen was a man about as old as Dane who bit off more than he could chew with his harvest last year. May and Dane had offered their services for a place to stay and food. Meanwhile they did study and research in the area, talking to older folk to see what memories they had. Actually, this city at the time had the oldest resident they knew of, which was a man in his seventies. For some strange reason he seemed more keen to talk to May than Dane. His name was Parker. Usually when Dane sat quietly in the corner, he was trying to cover his snickering about the conversation going on between Parker and May. One, because he would hit on her, and two because he would go off about the most random things.

  “Of all things to save; a chicken!” He once croaked as he laughed and rocked back and forth… hmm… So many more of his ramblings made sense now. Dane tried to go back and remember more of them. Maybe there was a link somewhere. Rumor had it that Parker had died a few months ago. Dane was sad to hear the news, as was May. You couldn’t help but love a man like that (even if he didn’t love you).

  Continuing the list… Julie was a mother of six who Dane and May would babysit for a few hours at a time so that she could go sell her cushions in the market. Those were fun times. May broke her wrist playing tag because she climbed in a tree and tried to swing, but one of the older kids grabbed her leg and she fell face first in the dirt. Going to the doctor after that encouraged Dane to go visit all the different doctors that lived in the area to ask them about procedures for broken limbs, for bleeding and stitches. Jonathan insisted that there was no magic in life and in healing, only science. To Dane it certainly looked like magic, not because he didn’t understand procedures, but because he didn’t understand the body. May sometimes would go to the therapists, seeking advice and counsel on fake problems, just to see what they’d say. Dane never remembered laughing harder than when she would come back with those stories from pretending to be someone named Bonshaka.

  Margaret was the third option. Age had not seemed to hinder her energy, only channel it, to loving and attending to others. She babied them like crazy. Dane remembered her fondly, and her food, and would have loved to spend time with her, but she wasn’t very good about staying quiet about things. Wernen was the best option because he was so concerned about his own situation that he wasn’t really concerned about anyone else’s. The other plus to Wernen was that he lived on the side of the town they were coming to. They just needed some food and water and then they were going to move on.

  The jungle was thinning and there was still a good fifty yards before they would be at his cotton field. Dane took off faster, with the hope of some food.

  Jonathan started cursing him. Dane paused and looked back, politely encouraging him to hurry.

  First he’s in a hurry this morning, now he won’t move faster than a pregnant woman. Dane thought. Continuing the analogy, it was as if every second was given its length depending on Jonathan’s mood. Dane had no words for the moment, only restrained guttural animal noises. Fine. Patience wearing thin, Dane turned around and walked forward. He realized there was no guarantee that Jonathan would follow. Oh well… Good riddance, Dane thought and almost meant it.

  ___

  By the time Jonathan found him, Dane was in good conversation with Wernen. There was a look of concern on the man’s face. Feeling distinctly smug, Jonathan hoped that meant Wernen wasn’t friendly anymore. On the contrary, Dane was now delving into details about the past few months and the negative attention they’ve been receiving and how they were unsure what to do about it. The way Dane was being completely honest took Jonathan aback. Dane half-lied to the man and said they were going to research more artifacts. When he and May finally understood, they wanted to give the knowledge away, but until then, it was too risky.

  “Well, I’m glad you came here, what do you need? Food? Lodging?” He smiled widely, slapping both of them on the back. Jonathan grimaced.

  Dane responded with, “just food, thanks.”

  Wernen’s house was larger than most. Which was easily understood when everything about him seemed larger than life, everything was bigger than manageable, including his own appetite. He was a few inches taller than Dane and much broader. That was how they met him in the first place; his exaggerated harvest. You could even see it in his smile. Dynamic, that man was, and for no profit or benefit; he just seemed to like everything big.

  Inside was clearly a bachelor pad. No décor existed, it was dirty and it reeked of stale beer. The ceiling was higher and more comfortable for Jonathan’s liking. The layout was more like an old barn, with a loft above and to their right. It looked like that’s where he slept. Even though it was dirty, because there was more space, it felt more open. The smell dampened that effect, however.

  Jonathan watched as Dane set the chicken down in its cage and took off his pack. Apparently they were staying for a while. Refusing such a notion, Jonathan kept his on the whole time, and sat heavily at the table, waiting impatiently for food.

  Dane stayed standing and walked around the room, being courteous and making conversation. How have things been, how was the harvest, any news from town… ? So familiar with the house, Jonathan realized, Dane was helping to prepare the food, picking up potatoes and squash here and there, a ladle from a sink of dirty dishes, which he washed. The giant of a man went on competently, explaining politics to Dane of the city, then they started talking about the attempt to ‘unify’ the cities, as if they weren’t already friendly.

  They went through a whole list of people’s names which Jonathan didn’t recognize, gossiping like two saucy women. Eventually they started talking about women, which Jonathan thought was more acceptable. Some girl’s name was mentioned and Dane started asking questions about her. Wernen responded,

  “I tried to do what you and May talked about. It didn’t work… sorry.”

  Dane laughed a little, but quietly. It was funny that he was apologizing. More, it was the way he apologized, as if he was proving the theory wrong because he tried it once. Funny. What Dane had suggested for him to do was be more loyal to the girl, be with her for a few years. ‘A few years?!’ He had said incredulously.

  After an hour of this bothersome chirping, all Jonathan could think was that this better be some un-freaking-believably good food. He kept checking his watch. At least the air was being filled with a scent other than sweat. Still, this was too long to sit in one place… Jonathan got up and sat outside on the ground. Imbecile. Just talking, as if what they were doing wasn’t important, and didn’t need time. As if he could leave May for weeks on end with no trouble back at home. Selfish bastard. Jonathan growled under his breath. A little piece of grass was sticking up out of the dirt. Before he could make the choice to do so, he realized his fingers were fiddling with it. Sighing, he looked at the ground and watched his fingers touch the newborn thing. He missed creating life. He looked at his watch, growled and started tapping the knife he found on the table in the dirt. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Rachmaninoff played wildly in his head; he tapped to the beat. His “evil lair”(or his lab) came back to his mind. That’s where Rachmaninoff had always belonged.

  When was that food going to be rea
dy?! Sitting around, feeling lazy was not Jonathan’s idea of well spent time. No music; no dull TV driving all unwanted thoughts out in the background. No lab work in the foreground to spare him either. Just his mind. This was how people go insane. It was bound to happen one way or another. Insanity. That sounded fun. AGH! The knife slid easily into the ground when he stabbed it downward.

  Almost tripping over the handle as he stood, he threw open the door and started hollering at Dane, “Do you think we have time for this?! When are we going to eat? When are we going to leave? We’re not going to get there for two days!”

  Dane ignored all of the questions and simply said, “That was the plan.”

  “Why wasn’t I told that?!”

  “Because you didn’t care… or you assumed that I’m as desperate as you are to get there.” His voice was so aggravatingly calm.

  “Why the hell would I assume that? You are the slowest mover on the planet!” Though he slammed the door after that, he heard Wernen agree, saying,

  “Amen to that! You even kissed that girl yet?”

  Dane laughed loudly and said that he had, and don’t worry, he was working on it. Jonathan scowled and imagined the conversation about marriage that followed. Too pissed-off to stick around, Jonathan wandered around side of the house and took off down the filthy street. Adventure was not really his thing, but thinking about everything amidst trying to think about nothing, proved a new experience and he felt he had no other choice. Stomping around obtrusively didn’t matter, because he knew he wouldn’t be recognized. Many people were out of their houses, being decently friendly to each other. Jonathan didn’t know how to respond. He was brusque and short with them and moved on down the street. It was hot no matter where you were, but inside gets stuffy. There was no air conditioning. Jonathan remembered the attempts made at that the first three times they came back.

  Shouting came from a nearby house. This was good. Well, it was good to see another family besides May’s. He figured out which house it was. Before he quite made it up to the house, she exited and he pretended to be a passersby. He wouldn’t wave at her unless she waved at him first. Walking up the street, they both looked back, periodically, eyeing each other suspiciously. She disappeared into a distant house. Two children came out of the house, making sure she was gone. He suspected they were the oldest and there were more inside. Two sisters headed toward the jungle behind their house, not really noticing him.

  If it weren’t for the extremity in his observation, he wouldn’t make a note of it… but those girls looked fiercely thin. That had been a huge problem during his (first) lifetime… eating disorders. They had hoped to get rid of that; to create an environment where people didn’t even know about those things, where socially they didn’t feel driven to do it. That was supposed to be Gabe’s work. And yet, here it was. An inescapable disease! Through the generations it lingered! Why?!

  Was this the more typical life? Was May’s household a rarity of enjoyment and personal comfort? A beacon of healthy choices? Healthy choices. It irritated Jonathan that he recognized that he very distinctly felt eating disorders were wrong… but that was a little different. Back in the twenty-second century, it seemed that unless people died because of their choices, it was deemed a lifestyle. Don’t judge on that lifestyle. People would say. That was about as in-depth into anthropology or concern about society he had ever and would ever venture.

  Still, it sickened and frustrated him.

  There were other people he saw who didn’t seem to be so angry; families that got along. So many bachelors were in their small, but adequate, housing. He couldn’t help but determine how bizarre it all was. But this wasn’t the same thing Dane was always talking about with right and wrong choices… just a different way of living he had never thought of. Maybe it would work. And maybe lunch was finally done. He headed back, getting a little lost and taking more time than before. He thought he found the right back door and looked in the window to see two men sitting at a table. Must be it. They ate without him! Assholes.

  “What the Hell? Really? You couldn’t come find me?”

  Dane shrugged nonchalantly, “I opened the door and called your name, but you left.” They laughed. It was apparent that Dane was feeling hostile toward him.

  “Did you eat it all, then?” Jonathan said accusingly.

  “Not if you ask nicely.” Dane said, patronizingly, and requiring more from Jonathan than he wanted to give.

  ___

  It was funny to say, considering their attitudes, but something had changed for the better in their relationship. Dane wasn’t going to complain and he wasn’t going to mention it, for fear that when Jonathan recognized that Dane recognized it he would deny the whole thing. They were conversing. What a novel idea! They were “discussing” problems. Sort of.

  On the road again. Jonathan was playing with that infernal device.

  Dane was incredulous. Couldn’t he walk and just… think? What was so bad about thinking? Well, okay, he knew what was so bad about it. His every moment right now was dwelling on memories and pain. How he wished they would go away. He saw the way he was becoming insecure about every other relationship he thought he possessed and kept trying to tell himself it was just the depression. But his battle and counter-battle had to change tactics. The counter argument was winning. What he needed to do was talk about something completely unrelated to anything they had done or thought about in the last two and a half months. A distraction, something like that stupid colorful beeping black box would need to be the topic.

  Dane cleared his throat, “So that looks like fun.”

  With a physical intensity Dane rarely experienced, Jonathan pounded the buttons with this thumbs, and didn’t respond. Dane watched over his shoulder, figuring out that the game was played by trying to fit the falling piece into the stationary pieces. Something happened and the pieces all disappeared. Jonathan swore at Dane for ruining his game.

  “Come on, man!” He said. “Bug off.”

  Perseverance would be the key here for Dane to ever learn about the game. Think Jonathan, think. Let’s talk about something other than work, for once. How long it took Dane to finally convince him, he wasn’t sure. But, they had reached the borders of the jungle and the sun was coming down.

  “Ah!” Jonathan proclaimed. “Finally. Here.” And he handed over the game, but as Dane began to play it, Jonathan was then looking at his watch constantly.

  “Are we close?” He whined. Dane didn’t answer; he was too busy with the game. He underestimated the difficulty of it. He tried to talk as he played,

  “Did you have a lot of games like this?”

  “Well, yeah. That is the simplest form of those games. Really simple. They once created a room where you put a suit on and choose weapons and magic, and it takes you on a journey and there are people you meet that look like real people, only they’re just holographs, or computerized images, but you can choose to be their ally or enemy – pretty much you could talk to them like real people with real emotions. There’s usually a goal, like finding the princess, or the lost artifact, or saving the world. And you just… pretend.”

  “You lost me.” Dane said, not looking up.

  “Bah” Jonathan said, shooing the original question away with the wave of his hand.

  The game to Dane was surprisingly boring after you lost twenty times, so he quit and handed it back to Jonathan who pulled up another game. Honestly, Dane was somewhat interested, so the conversation didn’t have to be all that forced coming from his end. They ended up having a decent conversation leading up to the campsite. Deeper in the jungle was so dark that Jonathan started tripping over tree roots because he wasn’t paying attention. Out of necessity he stopped the game and pulled something else out of the bottom of his bag.

  “What’s that?” Dane asked.

  “It’s called a flashlight.” Jonathan said stiffly, flipped a knob on the bottom and a very powerful light came out of the other end and lit up their path like th
e sun was out. Dane wanted to look at it, but was blinded every time he tried to understand what was creating the light.

  The jungle was familiar to Dane and so he asked if he could navigate. Mostly he just wanted to use the flashlight…

  They found the typical spot by the rock and made a fire to cook one of the chickens. Jonathan was calm for once, distracted by his game. Dane was pretending to be calm. Again, to babysit Jonathan’s comfort, Dane didn’t pull out the green book, even though he wanted to. That didn’t keep him from thinking about it all night. All the reminders of the last few days were rotating through his head. Even marriage was keeping him occupied, hardly related to May, but more the concept of the thing. Why was it related to the book and used as an analogy? It didn’t make sense.

  Besides, he needed something. He was in emotional pain that he couldn’t explain nor quite comprehend. Often flipping through the book for something to encourage him, he was hoping to find something now. There was so much more he needed to learn about this issue of the book. How could he learn any of it from a locked human vault? The weird thing to Dane, was that Jonathan didn’t really seem to know much about it by way of details, anyhow. So maybe, they got all they could from him, which was simply a distaste for the book itself, and what it represented.

  Waiting for Jonathan to fall asleep was like the worst kind of nightmare. Dane thought a lot about boxes. Jonathan said sometimes you create one for yourself. Dane’s box would be… big enough for two, at least at the moment. It would have to have the ability to expand depending on how well he’s coping with his depression. His requirements would be that each person would have to have decent intelligence to enter. Wait, no, it was requirements to exit? Was he sure? Or was it just that the box was the only thing that existed and the requirements did what? Now he was confused. Maybe he’d figure that out later.