by C. D. Bryan
“Yes, I suppose it could be,” answered J.R., feeling a bit unsure of what Agalar really meant.
Pip and Thomas looked at J.R. and stood in total silence, appearing to be amazed by everything Agalar was saying.
“And if we followed your decisions since then, your decisions to follow the signs,” said Agalar. “They would lead you to this place, the Cave of Chance, where you are right now, and where you see the green ball of light in the tree. Even the Decision Trees of both Pip and Thomas would show them being here.” He winked at them.
“Where am I going from here?” asked J.R. uncertain of what decision to make next.
“Too chancy for me to say, old buddy, too chancy indeed,” said Agalar, clicking and clucking again causing the tree to shrink back into the cave floor as the ground shuddered violently.
“Oh no,” said Pip. “It’s a cave-in.”
“No, no,” said Agalar, “It’s not that. It’s company.” He motioned for the three of them to move behind him. “It can’t be. This has only happened once before . . . that another followed so closely behind. That was in the year 1575, when William Shakespeare helped protect the Whiffler’s Promise, and a family member came through right after him. That was trouble.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you were my inner self?” said J.R.
“Oh, I am. I am,” said Agalar, smiling at J.R. “But I used to be the inner self of William Shakespeare too, and when he died I moved on. We recycle. Have to keep working, you know. Anyway, the second one who followed behind William, oh . . . he was bad. They parted as foes. This can’t be.” Agalar panicked. “Do you have a brother, a sister, or anyone in your family that might have followed you, J.R.?”
“No. I’m an only child as far as I know,” answered J.R.
“Oh no,” said Agalar, “away with you. Hurry, before it’s too late. Whoever it is, they must not see you. Use the . . .” Agalar paused.
It was too late. Somebody was pushing on the other side of the dark glass door and chanting in some kind of weird language.
The glass gave way.
“Oh my badness, look, J.R., it’s Preston,” said Pip.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A Villainous Visitor Vies for Victory
Preston stood up, rubbed his butt with one hand, and the back of his neck with the other. But before he could get a chance to look around, all the torches in the cave went out.
“J.R., can you hear me,” asked Agalar, whispering in the darkness.
“Yes, I hear you.” whispered J.R.
“This isn’t good,” said Agalar, “You have to run, and J.R., listen to me, you have to keep believing, it’s the only way I can help you—“
“Yeah, Timble,” said Preston. “You better listen, but listen to me. I’m the one who’s next in line, not you. Master Dorian has seen it in my tree. So you see, Timble, there’s only room for one—me.” He laughed in the darkness.
“J.R.,” said Agalar. “Don’t listen to what he says. Take these directions: follow the wall deeper into the mountain and then use the Ueblay Evatorselay and Ellowyay Calatorsesay. A feeling will come to you. Now go, I’ll distract Preston as long as I can.”
“Got it,” whispered J.R., as he, Pip and Thomas grabbed each other’s arm in the darkness, and with their free hands, began feeling and following the wall in the darkness.
“I hear you Timble,” said Preston. “You’ll never make it.”
The three of them fumbled their way along the dank wall, deeper and deeper into the dark cavernous corridor leading into the mountain.
“Pip,” said Thomas. “Was that more Pig Latin?”
“Yes,” whispered Pip, “Agalar said use the Ueblay Elevatorselay and Ellowyay Calatorsesay, which translates into ‘use the blue elevators and yellow escalators’.”
“Ah . . . Ok, thanks,” said Thomas. “Elevators and escalators inside a mountain, that makes perfect sense.”
“Look,” said J.R. “I see a light. That must be it.”
Thomas, Pip, and J.R. ran for the light and barged into a vast torch-lit, lobby-like cavity. The floor flickered with gold glitter, and the walls shimmered with an equally radiant rainbow of colors. It was quiet, cold and very earthy-smelling. One side of the lobby was home to four sparkling blue elevators and the other side home to four glimmering yellow escalators.
“J.R.,” said Thomas, “what’re we supposed to do now?”
“I don’t know,” said J.R. groaning in pain.
“What’s the matter?” asked Pip.
“I don’t know,” said J.R., bending over and falling to the ground. “I feel like my insides are being ripped out.”
A rush of evil-smelling stench blew out of the cave behind them and filled the lobby. It was closely followed by the distant crashes of shattering glass, and of all things—the sound of a chainsaw.
“What the heck is that?” asked Thomas.
“It sounds like breaking glass,” said Pip.
“No . . .” said Thomas, “I mean the other noise.”
“It’s a chainsaw,” J.R. said, feeling deathly ill. “Help me . . . the glass cases. And my tree, someone’s cutting down my tree. Agalar, help.”
Thomas and Pip knelt by his side, holding his arms and trying to bring him to his feet.
“What’s happening?” said Pip.
“My dreams are being shattered.”
Pip looked at Thomas.
“Maybe it’s the pandemic,” she said.
“We have to get out of here,” Thomas said insistently, looking in all directions.
“J.R.,” said Pip. “What do you mean your dreams are being shattered?”
“Agalar, help me,” begged J.R., looking up at Pip as his skin began turning a lifeless gray.
“Listen, J.R.,” said Pip. “Agalar said to keep believing. Remember? Maybe this is why he said it. So, as long as you keep believing, you’ll still have your dreams even though they’re being shattered back there. They’re yours. Keep them in your mind. Hang onto them. Keep believing. He said that’s the only way he could help you. Remember?”
J.R. smiled. He knew she was right and he could feel his strength regaining slightly with every word. He looked up. Sweat trickled down his forehead. “You’re right.” He whispered, trying to stand. “Keep believing.”
“Keep believing,” said Thomas, joining in. “Keep believing we’re gonna get the heck out of this place is what I’m gonna keep believing.”
J.R. and Pip laughed. And all the while the sound of the chainsaw buzzed in the distance.
“Let’s take one of these,” said Pip, pointing at the elevators.
“But which one?” asked Thomas. “There’re four blue elevators and four yellow escalators. Which is the right one?”
“Keep believing,” J.R. said to himself, closing his eyes to focus for a moment. And when he opened them, a simultaneous vibrating hum of motors began radiating all around the three of them. The entire inside of the mountain was waking up, coming to life, section by section. Red and green elevator lights came on with door-opening chimes. While rollercoaster; click, click, clicking—in between buzzing rings and whistling dings came from the escalators behind them.
“Look up there,” said Thomas, pointing above them.
J.R. and Pip tilted their heads back as far as they could, watching as yellow lights began to glow through the glass ceiling. Then, in succession, more glowing lights came on behind those, one after another in cake-like layers. Each layer followed by another into one eternally-distant illumination at the top, the size of a dime.
“Wow . . . this is berry unbelievable,” said Pip.
The lights revealed a labyrinth of glass tubes and shafts that snaked around each other all the way up the inside of the mountain. And most amazingly, each elevator and each escalator was connected to one of the tubes or shafts.
“What do we do now, J.R.?” asked Pip.
“We have to make a decision,” said J.R., looking back into the cave behind them, hearin
g the advancing sounds of a chainsaw, running feet and Preston’s sinister laugh. “Agalar said a feeling would come to me.”
“Right,” said Pip, “okay what’s your feeling? Which one? There’s four of each, J.R., which one?”
J.R. turned in a circle.
“It’s almost over, Timble,” yelled Preston, with the sound of the chainsaw revving repeatedly. “When I get there, you’re done for.”
“Where’d he get a chainsaw anyway,” yelled Thomas.
“Who knows Thomas,” answered J.R. “Look at us we’re on the inside of a mountain, and we’re not even sure how we got here. Heck I’m not even sure any of this is real are you?”
“Ok, well the sound of that chainsaw sounds real enough for me,” said Thomas, stepping into the nearest open elevator, leaving Pip and J.R. behind. “This one will do just fine. There . . . decision made, anyone else going up?”
“Wait, Thomas,” said Pip, “J.R. should be the one to choose.”
“Decisions, decisions,” said Preston, his evil laugh echoing through the cave. “Always making decisions, aren’t we? Don’t make the wrong one, Timble.”
However, Thomas grew as impatient as he could get and pushed button 100, the biggest number on the panel of numbered buttons. The elevator chimed.
“Come on. Get in,” said Thomas. “The doors are closing. Hurry. We’re going to the top.”
But before the doors closed, Pip reached into the elevator and grabbed Thomas by his shirt and jerked him out. The doors closed and the elevator climbed its way up the glass shaft and disappeared into the maze above.
“Why’d you do that?” begged Thomas. “Why?”
“Because, Thomas,” said Pip. “J.R. should decide. Besides, how do you know that was the right one?”
“I didn’t, but if it was, it’s gone now,” answered Thomas, looking up into the tubular intestines of the mountain.
J.R. didn’t feel capable of making a choice. Only seven options left, he thought, and the right one could have been the one that’s now gone. He felt crippled. How can this be so tough? Just make a decision. If you make the wrong one, you make the wrong one. But Pip and Thomas are counting on you. You’re running out of time. Time, that’s it. We can stop life for time.
“J.R., are you in there?” yelled Pip, waving her hands in front of his face.
“Yes,” said J.R. “Hurry, both of you, grab my arms and don’t let go.”
Pip and Thomas did as he said.
J.R. pulled out his grandfather’s pocket watch just as Preston sprang from the cave with chainsaw in hand. And right behind him was a charcoal-gray figure the same size of Agalar, but much more grotesque in appearance. It had a strong resemblance to that of a scale-covered, anteater-like pangolin but much more gigantic. J.R.’s eyes locked into a staring battle with Preston’s.
“See, Timble,” said Preston. “I told you, you weren’t going to make it.”
And with the press of his thumb J.R. popped open the watch, and just as it happened in the Whiffler’s Creek, everything froze; Preston, the pangolin, the elevators, and the escalators—all motionless.
Pip and Thomas stood in a state of disbelief.
“Ok, what just happened?” asked Thomas, who was talking through a frozen smile like a ventriloquist, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again.
“We stopped life for time,” answered J.R.
“Oh yeah, of course we did,” said Thomas sneering sarcastically. “We can do that any time we want, with the flick of a switch.”
“Yep pretty much . . . It’s my watch. My grandfather gave it to me. It’s how I saved Pip in the creek. You can let go of me now.”
“How long does it last?” asked Pip.
“I don’t know,” said J.R., feeling a sense of urgency and looking back at the frozen figures of Preston and what certainly must be his bad inner self, a charcoal-gray pangolin. “And I have no idea how many times it will work either.”
“Boy, do you think that’s Preston’s inner self?” asked Thomas.
“Yep,” answered J.R.
“Wow . . . then I guess your inner self was a good-looking guy, J.R.,” replied Thomas.
“We have problem, guys,” said J.R. looking at the watch again.
“Are you trying to be funny?” said Thomas, laughing nervously. “We’re trapped inside a mountain, being stalked by Phillip P. Preston the third hurling a chainsaw, being chased by his sidekick, a non-humanous charcoal-gray inner self, and right now—the second you close that watch, it all starts up again. Those are problems. What could possibly top that?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elevators and Escalators Make a Splash
Just then the earthly powers of life vibrated through everything around them as if life didn’t like being stopped. J.R. looked at the watch, which was still ticking away as normal.
“I have a feeling it’s not going to last much longer,” said J.R. “Time to make a decision.”
Thomas and Pip were all ears, leaning forward on their tippy toes eager to hear.
“We’ll take . . .” said J.R., turning in a circle appearing uncertain yet deep in thought as he looked at the elevator farthest away. What if we take that one? He turned around one last time. Or that one, or that one, or any of those? How do I make the decision? He glanced at his watch then finally just did it. “We’ll take . . . this one.” He stepped past Pip and Thomas, heading for the open elevator farthest away while everything around them continued to shudder.
“That was a decision?” asked Thomas. “It looked more like a guess to me.”
“Yes, Thomas, that was a decision,” said J.R. “We’re taking this one.”
Thomas and Pip followed in haste.
“How do you know it’s the right decision?” asked Thomas as the elevator doors opened.
“Well, Agalar said a feeling would come to me, and it did.” J.R. looked at the panel of buttons on the inside of the elevator and pushed button 100.
“So, you guessed,” said Thomas.
“Pretty much,” answered J.R. feeling confident.
“Well at least you chose the same button I did; that makes me feel better.”
J.R. snapped his pocket watch shut and instantly everything was back in full motion, and the elevator doors closed.
The elevator trembled for a second as if gathering momentum for a blastoff while Preston pounded on the door. Then it slowly lifted off the ground and shot straight up the glass shaft. Pip, Thomas and J.R. each braced themselves against the glassy-blue walls, their knees weakened from the upward force. The three of them waved at Preston who was shaking his fist and getting smaller and smaller by the second.
The elevator shook and rattled, and shifted left then right.
“I hope we make it up in one piece,” said Thomas.
“Look,” yelled Pip, “Preston is getting in one of the blue elevators too.”
The three of them pressed their faces against the glass wall of the elevator and watched as Preston’s elevator took off at a much greater speed.
“Great,” said Thomas, “he’s gaining on us.”
“I know you pressed 100, Timble,” yelled Preston. “Anyone would press 100. It’s natural to think you’d get out of here at the top.” Preston laughed. Then suddenly, his elevator flipped onto its side, switching to a different shaft, and the pangolin fell on top of him.
“What’s he talking about,” asked Thomas.
“Oh no, we’re stopping,” screamed Pip as the elevator slowed then jerked to a complete stop.
The three of them looked at the panel of buttons. The number seventy-five was lit up.
“What’s happening?” asked Pip. “I thought you pushed 100?”
“I did,” said J.R., pushing 100 again several times.
“Then what happened?” said Thomas.
“I don’t know, I guess when Preston said something about everyone picks 100, it made me question my decision. I stopped believing it was the best choice.”
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Suddenly, the elevator began dropping back down the shaft.
“Then start believing,” yelled Thomas. “We’re falling.”
J.R. and Pip gazed through the glass walls of the elevator.
“What now?” said Pip.
“Ok, we’ll just do it again,” said J.R., looking at the panel of buttons. Which one now, he thought, noting that the elevator’s descent was picking up speed.
Thomas and Pip stared through the glass walls; everything the elevator passed was a flashing a blur.
“Oh no,” said Pip, “Look, Preston’s elevator is on the way back down too; this is like a bad ride at the fair that keeps getting worse.”
“I’m right behind you, Timble,” shouted Preston. “You knew that number was a bad decision when you pushed it. Didn’t you?”
Pip, Thomas, and J.R. braced themselves again as the elevator rapidly accelerated in its rate of descent.
“J.R.,” Pip said seriously.
“Yeah?” answered J.R.
“What just happened?”
“I . . .” J.R. said with a moan. “I questioned whether or not I made the right decision again when I heard Preston.”
“J.R., don’t you get it? He’s trying to psych you out. He wants you to question your decisions. Look,” said Pip, pointing. “He’s gaining on us.”
“Go ahead, J.R.,” said Thomas. “Try again. A new decision, a new feeling, you can do it.”
J.R. watched the glowing numbers change from forty-nine to forty-eight to forty-seven. They were changing more quickly with every passing second, so, in a split decision he pressed forty-five. And when the light on button forty-six went out, the three of them fell to the floor as the elevator braked to a complete stop. The door chimed, and opened; forty-five stories above the ground.
J.R., Thomas, and Pip looked out the door at a square platform hovering in midair in front of them. All three of them stepped back.
