CHAPTER 29: WATER FOR THE KING
The bearded man, Bess, and Agnes sat and watched the drama of Tobit being cured of his blindness by Tobias. Agnes, like Marc and Jacqueline before her had been raised Presbyterian. The scene she observed seemed Biblical in nature, but she didn’t recall reading or hearing the tale in church or Sunday school.
None of the three remarked on the scene. Agnes and Bess continued their chant, doing their part to maintain the connection to the past event.
The bearded man spoke: “We seek to understand. We seek answers. Show us the source of the candle that lit the way for Agnes, and what it was meant to summon instead.”
The scene faded, and darkness surrounded the group. However, it was not total darkness. There were dark clouds that swirled around them, becoming lighter, and eventually dissipating. They saw a walled city from above, and were coming in for a landing, like a seagull approaching the beach. Soon they were upon solid ground, from their vantage point, and instead of a cloistered room housing an old blind man, they saw a stone palace, inlaid with gold, shimmering in the noonday sun. They saw a giant aqueduct, towering over rows and rows of stone tiers that in turn were laid in with grasses, plants, flowers, and trees of several varieties.
In turn, they saw someone who they identified as a king. He walked pensively through his garden, looking sadly at the staggering masterpiece of human ingenuity that lay before him. These were what would come to be known, incorrectly, as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. They appeared to have been freshly constructed.
A bird landed on a shrub, and the king smiled. He made a magnanimous gesture to the bird, as if to signal “you’re welcome.”
From across the lawn that spanned hundreds of feet in the tier that currently supported the king, a man walked alone. He was slight in stature, swarthy, clothed in plain brown robes and thin sandals. The group knew him to be Tobias but knew little else about the man except for what they had previously witnessed. He seemed a bit older now.
“Tobias has heard my summons. Come, and give me your counsel.”
Tobias bowed. “The king’s voice may be heard on the four winds, and in every corner of the land. I am unlikely to be of much use to you, your highness, but if it is counsel you seek, counsel you may have.”
The king smiled. “Behold, for my gardens are now complete. All of the people from every land shall look upon my works, and know that this is Eden itself, made anew.”
Tobias showed suitable awe, which pleased the king. “But, your highness, I am no gardener. Did you simply summon me to be the first to appreciate the wonder of your creation?”
The king patted his back. “No, no. You are too modest. A gardener you may not be, Tobias, but I am told you are capable of providing something far more valuable to me.”
Tobias frowned. “What have you been told, your highness?”
The king gestured to a stone bench, flanked on either side by flowering bushes. Tobias sat. The king stood. “This is my greatest achievement. Look, see how I have brought the lowly land closer to heaven itself. The undertaking was costly, and incomprehensibly difficult, but see here, see that it has been done. Life itself surrounds us, a beacon before the world that Nineveh and Nineveh alone holds such a spectacle under heaven.”
Tobias squinted up at the king, as the sun caught his eye at a harsh angle. “I have seen, your highness, and I mark your words truly. What could I possibly do to be of any benefit to any of this, save to be buried under it, and my carcass left to feed the living world above?”
The king smiled. “Soon, it will all be dead, and all of this effort shall be folly.”
Tobias expressed shock.
The king continued. “Yes, Tobias, all of this was a master stroke of labor and design. But it lacked one essential element to ensure its ultimate success.”
Tobias didn’t speak but made a face that showed interest in knowing the answer to the riddle.
“Water. Without water, all of this is for naught.”
Tobias cleared his throat. “But, your highness, do I not see an aqueduct at the top of your glorious creation? Should that not carry water from the Tigris and bear it down to the plants below?”
“You see correctly, Tobias. The aqueduct may indeed bear water, and from it my creation will be sustained forever. But the Tigris is low, and the Aqueduct is high. It was not considered by my architects, who favored beauty over function.”
“And how shall I remedy this?”
The king signaled to a guard, who stepped forward and handed the king an earthen cup. The king in turn handed the cup to Tobias, who took the cup, and signaled that he didn’t understand its purpose, relative to such an overwhelming expanse of lush green plants and grasses. The king gestured again to the guard, who in turn drew his sword. He aimed the point at Tobias’s throat.
The king’s voice hardened. “Succeed or die, Tobias. Fill the cup with water to the brim.”
Tobias looked fearfully at the king, then the cup, then at the tip of the sword. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes.
“Obey.”
Tobias held his breath, and then, to the king’s amazement, water formed at the bottom of the cup and rose steadily, up to the brim. The king took the cup from Tobias, and held it to his lips, then gave it a sniff. He took a sip, then drank deeper, then finished off the swig with a satisfied gasp.
He handed the cup to Tobias. “Again.”
Tobias tried to plead, but the sword stayed pointed to his throat, and he chose the easier path. Soon afterward the king held another cup of water. He smiled and spoke. “I am not without manners, Tobias. I will share with you the fruits of your labors.” Tobias reached up for the cup, but his hand was waved off by the king. “By this, I mean that you will be clothed and fed, and given a room of your own. Take him away.”
Guards seized Tobias and dragged him away in the direction of a tower that stood adjacent to the top of the aqueduct.
After an arduous climb up hundreds of steps, Tobias found himself imprisoned in a stone room that had vertical slits for windows cut into the stone, and another horizontal slit that led to the aqueduct. He was given an earthen vessel that stood half of his height and left alone. Many hours later, after night fell, the king paid a visit to his cell.
“Aha, I see that Tobias now enjoys my hospitality, and my mercy.”
Tobias curled his lips in defiance and spat.
“Come now, Tobias, the highest room in my kingdom has been given to you, along with food and clothing. Should you not repay my kindness with your labors?”
Tobias’s face contorted angrily. “Kindness! This is no kindness at all, highness, and if Tobias is to die, so be it.”
The king smiled cruelly. “It is not Tobias that shall die for denying me. Show him.”
Cries were heard outside of the cell, and a woman’s voice shrieked, spat and cursed. Tobias recognized the sound and was grief-stricken when his fears were realized.
“You will water my garden, Tobias. Or the blood and carcass of your only sister Inanna shall feed it instead, followed by your own, if you persist in your defiance of me.”
A dirt-streaked woman was forced to her knees by guards, who saw Tobias and bathed her cheeks in hot tears. “No, my brother, do not obey!”
Tobias knelt and prayed. “Spare her, highness, I beg of you!”
The king signaled to his guards. “Let her head furnish this humble room. Quickly.”
A guard unsheathed a sword and readied it above her neck. Tobias scuttled over to the earthen vessel and hugged it tightly. “Water… water for the king. Water for the king.” There was a hissing and churning noise, and soon, the sound of water bubbling up closer to the rim of the vessel could be heard clearly. Just as the guard readied the death stroke of his sword, water spilled over the sides of the vessel and onto the dusty stone floor. The king gestured again, and the guard sheathed his sword.
The king smiled. “Tobias has chosen wisely.”
Tobias fell to the floo
r of his cell, broken. “Please… highness… I beg of you. Spare her. You will have your water. You will have your gardens. Let no harm come to Inanna.”
The woman was lifted to her feet by the guards, and as they hustled her out of the room, the king called behind them, “She will serve me too, as my concubine. Lock her away with the others.” Inanna’s shrieks filled the stairwell, and gradually faded away. The king sneered and stood in the doorway. “I haven’t had any complaints from the others. Perhaps she’ll enjoy serving me equally well.” The king left, and the cell door was barred.
Tobias wept.
Clouds formed around him, darkening, and filling the room with complete blackness. The incense had burned out, and the chanting had stopped. The room returned to its normal condition, with tapestries, rugs and pillows strewn about. The three sat in silence.
CHAPTER 30: CLEARANCE
Marc returned to his apartment in the early afternoon. He stood in the doorway, and took a moment to survey it, as if he would never see it again. He saw part of his sofa, his dining table, his desk, a lamp or two, his galley kitchen, the short hallway that led to the bathroom, a linen closet, and his bedroom.
They would all be gone soon, by way of not having a job, therefore money. Rent would be due on the first of the month, late after the fifth, and payment warnings would begin to appear on his door any time after the fourteenth, based on what he’d seen happen to other tenants. The process moved slowly, but eviction was inevitable. He didn’t care.
He took off his coat and tossed it aside. He let the front door slam behind him. He shuffled into his bedroom and flopped on his bed, face up. Emptiness defined the entirety of his existence within that moment. Agnes had played him for a fool, Gracie wasn’t speaking to him—well, not in any meaningful way, he wasn’t close to his parents, and Jacqueline was probably doing back to back conference calls from now until doomsday. And the one and only person he wanted to be with at that moment may have just been someone he dreamt up: Inanna.
He laid there and felt tears well up in the corners of his eyes. Inanna was no dream. He had been there, outside of the mighty gate of Nineveh, naked before heaven and earth, alone with her. His alone. Forever. Just like she promised him. Now he was alone.
A moment of clarity struck him as he laid there. What is… or was, Nineveh? Was Inanna there now? Was she someone from the past that he should learn about? Why was she reaching out to him? The city seemed far away, like the other side of the world, not Nevada. He pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and decided to look it up.
He tapped the search bar, which activated a keyboard display. He meant to type “Nineveh” but instead typed “candle”. He cleared the search bar and tried again. He took great pains to tap the letter n first and ended up with “nincense”. The search app helpfully opted to show results related to Nunsense.
Marc smacked his forehead. Online searches were supposed to be better than this. And he certainly didn’t appreciate his mind and body not working in sync to perform simple tasks like clearing the search results display and typing “candle”. Nineveh! No! He groaned in disgust.
Okay, fine, he fumed. He understood where this was going. Clearly, he had to light the trick candle again, so Gracie could have another laugh in some other dimension, being that she wasn’t here to see any of this. The next time they ever had one of their phone chats she’d ask him innocently enough if he thought decorative candles were lame, and that would pave the way for him to rant about the trouble the trick candle had given him, and how up to now he had thwarted the joke by dousing it in his kitchen sink.
He rolled off his bed and onto his feet. He recreated the scene that led to his dream of Inanna by first collecting the candle from his kitchen counter, then his yellow plastic cigarette lighter. He placed the candle on one of the coasters that Agnes had given him and began to light the wick. The lighter sparked weakly but did not produce a flame.
Troubleshooting is subtractive, he thought. Maybe the candle wouldn’t light because it wasn’t in the right spot on the table. He moved it around, trying to find the correct placement. The lighter sputtered each time.
“Okay, subtract.” He removed the candle from the coaster and set it down on the bare tabletop. He put the coaster back into its holder. He flicked the lighter again, and flame appeared in a long teardrop shape. He touched it to the wick, and nothing happened. He let go of the lighter knob and set it aside. He felt the wick. Maybe it was waterlogged from when he dunked the candle in the sink. To his bafflement, it was bone dry.
“Subtract.” There wasn’t anything else on the table except for the coaster set. He carried the soda can from the night before to the kitchen sink, dumped it out, and gave the can a quick rinse. He dropped it into the wastebasket. Well, he meant to, but the yellow legal pad was still laying on top of it. He set the pad aside on his dining table and then dropped the can into the wastebasket. Nothing was preventing any of this. So far so good. He would have preferred to not play Hot and Cold to get anything done, but he was enjoying the sense of accomplishment.
He began to return to the sofa, and his candle lighting ceremony, when his left foot kicked one of his dining chairs. Fortunately for him, he thought with a sigh of relief, he was still wearing shoes. He probably would have broken a toe otherwise. He swore and regrouped. He kicked the chair again.
“What?” Marc looked around, and saw nothing except for the dining chairs, the small table, and… the legal pad. He scooped it up and walked away; he did not kick the chair a third time. He sat down on the sofa and set the legal pad off to his side. He leaned forward to light the candle. The lighter sputtered again. He kept flicking it, this time pulling away from the wick as he did so. When his hand was directly over the coaster set, the lighter gave off a steady flame.
“Subtract.” He set the lighter down, and he put the stray coaster back into its holder. Then he removed the set from the table. He carried it over to the dining table and set it down. He began to return to the sofa and he kicked the chair again.
“Seriously?” He scooped up the coaster set and carried it to the wastebasket. “Better?” He stepped on the foot pedal and the lid flipped up, eager to accept his offering. The coaster set landed in the wastebasket with a clattering thud. He returned to the sofa and leaned in to light the candle again. There was nothing left to do, no rituals to perform, no items to remove. He flicked the lighter and it sputtered once more. Marc groaned. His patience was nearly gone.
The lighter was clearly giving hints, so he flicked the wheel over and over, waving it around until he held it over the legal pad. Once more, the lighter produced a long flame.
“Burn this?” The lighter went dark.
“Read this?” The flame returned.
Fine, he would obey. Something was driving him to madness. Might as well lean into it and enjoy the ride, he figured. He set the lighter onto the coffee table and flipped the legal pad over, revealing what was scrawled there. Over a series of pages, in large letters, looking as though he had written it with his left hand, Marc read the following:
PLEASE SAVE ME
THE LIGHT IS THE WAY
DEATH COMES QUICKLY
DO YOU LOVE ME?
PLEASE SAVE ME
Following this, in much neater handwriting, closer to his own, was something that looked like a shopping list: he was to buy incense sticks in three different scents, holders, a glass bell and a glass striking rod.
Marc was up on his feet at once. He grabbed his phone from the bed, and anxiously attempted another search. He typed “sandalwood incense” into the search bar, which auto suggested “...near me.” He tapped that suggestion. There were four places within 15 miles.
He picked up his coat from the floor and reached for the front door. An electric shock reminded him that he had forgotten something. He picked up the legal pad and tore off the sheet that contained the list of items. The door offered no further resistance.
CHAPTER 31: GROUPTHINK
The bearded man sat on his stool and stroked his chin. He patted his pockets in search of his pipe, then shrugged, suggesting he would do without it. His students set about opening the curtains, cleaning up the spent incense, and generally putting the room in order. They were motioned back to their seats. They adjusted the placement of their stools to face their mentor. The bearded man addressed them with a scholarly air.
“Hmmm, yes. Very troubling. Not at all what I expected. I had anticipated something a bit more… contemporary. Ah, well! The truth is the truth. We have seen it plainly; now, what are we to make of it?”
Bess’s eyes darted between the two of them. Agnes nodded. Both women looked imploringly at their mentor.
“Oh ho! Yes, well, about that. I think it is fair to say that history is written by the victors. The Tobias that has been revealed to us is not the same Tobias as named in the Book of Tobit. Well done, Bess, that was a keen observation.” His eyes twinkled with appreciation.
Agnes cocked her head.
“Ah, well. It would appear, in my estimation, that this Tobias was meant to be summoned by the candle that instead brought Agnes a bit too close to her brother, too quickly. Such are the perils of being surrounded by so many unprepared minds! Our lives would be much easier if we didn’t have to provide a cause for every effect. We could have flame without the bother of searching for matches, or fruit without the tedious process of growing the tree.”
Panic flashed across Bess’s eyes. Agnes made a face signaling uncertainty.
“My, Bess, you are my best student, with respect to Agnes! But sadly, it is not clear what this Tobias wants with her brother. We may never know if his intent was good or ill, as Agnes denied him passage. Ah, well!”
Agnes frowned and fought back tears. Bess reached over and stroked her shoulder.
“Oh ho! Agnes, you are too quick to form conclusions. We have seen a man imprisoned unjustly by a wicked king, or so we might surmise, based on such limited evidence. More must be learned about this man, so we may better know of his intentions, and how we may be of aid, if that is to be our role. I daresay the events skewed toward the ancient side of things, so we may have overshot the mark by millennia in our quest to learn the truth of your mysterious candle.”
The Spaces Between Us Page 12
