“Well I'm glad to hear that,” Magenta said dumbfounded. “I think I will show you my recipe today lost soul. I think you are strong enough to decide today. Come. Get up.” She grabbed him by the hand and helped him to his feet. They moved to the back of the hut and Magenta lifted a small hatch door that lined the floor. It exposed a dark hole containing a ladder and a small flickering light that resembled that of a light house. The light was excellent at offering direction but was difficult to gauge distance from. “Follow me.” The hole was quite tight which revealed the nutrition of the villagers; a typical westerner would be hard-pressed to avoid having their fat, happy belly cut or scraped by the rocks that lined the perimeter of the hole. Everything was quiet in the hole and Winston quite liked it. It reminded him of the pond in the jungle where he had fished piranhas. The beautiful silence rendered elapsing measurements inapplicable which in turn threw Winston's distance gauge even further askew. The only indication he had that told him he was real far below the ground was a slight push that he felt against his inner ear.
“Thump! Thump!” The two landed firmly onto the basement surface of cold rock. It was pitch dark.
“Awwwwh!” Winston screamed as he shielded his eyes from a painful flash of magnificent light.
“Oh yes, close your eyes and take my hand lost soul. That light will flicker every few seconds. Follow me.” Magenta led him across rock staircases, rickety bridges, and cool streams with her eyes closed until they reached a large room with high ceilings and constant dim light. Winston opened his eyes and stared at the drawings on the walls. They were of men farming fields and of women singing songs and dancing. There was one image, in particular, that was even more beautiful than the rest. It was a picture of a tall waterfall that fed a tranquil stream amidst jungle overgrowth. Birds floated on the surface and two people stood in the middle with the water mark at their breasts. One was a man. He had long hair past his shoulders and a heavy beard. Both hands were above his head and his mouth was open as if he was yelling something. He looked happy. The other was of a woman with her arms wrapped around the man in loving embrace. She too looked happy. Winston then noticed a third person, another woman. She stood just on the edge of the stream and looked old as well, but not content like the others. Winston's interpretation was that the man was yelling for the woman to come join them in the stream and that it would make her happy as they were. A disturbing noise then stole Winston's attention.
“Uckkkk!” moaned the floor of the cave. Winston averted his eyes from the painting and was horrified by the image before him. Lying on the floor were the naked, motionless bodies of dozens of small children huddled up in the fetal position. They looked cold and near death. It was hard to see their faces in the dim light so he moved closer until he was hovering over a young boy and a young girl. They were both smiling. He looked over at Magenta who was flicking tubes and adding potions to the blood-recyclers. “What is this?” he asked with sunken animosity.
“This is how we raise our children Winston.” She went back to flicking tubes and adding potions while humming to herself. He wondered what kind of person smiles throughout a coma.
“How long have they been down here like this Magenta?”
“Well, some just a short time, but others have been here for quite a bit longer. Every child comes here at the age of six and stays until they are eighteen. When they are done, they know exactly what they are going to do with their lives. There is no uncertainty, no confusion. They have supreme confidence in themselves and in the roles they have chosen or, in some cases, in the roles that have been chosen for them. This confidence they develop for their particular role or purpose allows them to be extremely efficient achievers, and it dramatically reduces the likelihood of mental illness. It may seem stupid to have them down here laying motionless for twelve years, but it actually saves us a tremendous amount of time. A clear mind has proven to accomplish ten times that of a troubled soul. I feed them and exercise their muscles every day, and they wake up at age 18 feeling strong and excited for the wonderful life that they know is waiting for them.”
“I still don't think I get it. How could a coma do so much for the mind?”
“It's the potions that I give them; it's the recipe for living to 50. It tells the future lost soul. It tells the future from whichever crossroad you would like to start from. The child is fully aware the entire time. That is why you see them smiling. They are witnessing their beautiful futures as we stand here. They pick the starting point and then see the results. If they don't like the results, they can simply choose another path and then see how it unfolds. When they are done, there is no doubt in the paths they have chosen because they have already witnessed the others. Don't you see lost soul? When you know that the path you are on is leading you to the best possible future, there is no benefit from regretting the past. There is no point in pondering the future because it is already known. There is only the present.”
“But isn't this cruel? I mean, how can this be okay?”
“You see the smiles on those faces lost soul? They get even bigger.”
Chapter 19 – The Freedom Fishers
“Red sky at night, fisherman's delight.”
The waves sloshed onto the shores of union beach, bringing a green elixir speckled with moss and miniature critters that sparkled under the golden stare of the conscious eye. It then stretched out onto the sand, pausing momentarily to deposit the moss and critters onto the beach before running back to the sea with white handfuls of sand as keep-sakes.
“The waters trade fair today,” Emansu said as he arose from his rock perch on union beach.
“Ha, ha, they always do Emansu. That's why the waters are also so warm; they share the warmth they receive from the conscious eye with us also,” Abonto stated as he too arose from his perch.
“The waters are warm because that is how they are Abonto. Water would be warm whether it shared or stole from us. It is warm because it just is.”
“Oh Emansu, why you spent your cave time dreaming of being a builder I'll never understand. Your shoulders were never meant to move stone and now your head is full of rocks instead of knowledge. You may have eyes, but without a head full of knowledge you still cannot see. Our waters are warm Emansu, but waters are not warm everywhere. There are places where the waters are so cold that some of the water is harder than these rocks we sit on. These waters are too cold to bathe in. In fact, if you did bathe in them, your fingers and toes would be bitten by them and then fall off!”
“No. What could possibly make these waters so cold?”
“Well, when the waters outstretch onto the land beneath your feet they do not leave moss and sea creatures.”
“Then what do they leave? Surely they must offer something to the land.”
“Yes they do.” Abonto was cringing while he spoke. “They leave a thick black goo that kills all of the birds and fish that it can find. The goo hunts them with a powerful circle that gets larger and larger every moment. It gets so big that eventually it kills everything. The conscious eye sees this and doesn't share any warmth with these waters.” His body relaxed now as his lesson was shared and he placed a slender naked arm around Emansu's shoulder. Emansu was crying and shaking. “We can only teach Emansu. We can not stop these things. Now clean your mouth. We have to begin with the preparations.” The two grabbed handfuls of moss and gently wiped the surfaces of their teeth before proceeding to chew and ingest their gifts from the warm waters.
The age of the Earth had been estimated by the island people. Estimated. They believed that, at one time, the Earth had existed as one solid land mass: a super-continent. Then the Earth had fragmented into different pieces and the ocean currents had moved them away from one another. They also believed that the fragments would rejoin one another over time. This, they felt, was an inherent property of the Earth due to its roundness. There had been civilizations past and present on other fragments of the Earth. Due to the Earth being as old as it was, naturally the
fragments, and thus the civilizations, had met one another before and had broken away and so on. It was a continuous process of union and separation forever to be repeated.
The elders often spoke at gatherings of the last time the Earth fragments had met. The people living in the very place the island people were living today had spotted the large land mass approaching the shores of union beach. For months they built weapons out of stone and sticks and diamond and potion for fear that grave danger was approaching. When the day finally arrived that the two masses met, the people of the other side yelled in words that no one understood and raised pointed boxes above their heads. The island people trembled, but did not run. The yelling continued and the people of the other side pulled cross pendants from their chests and rose them high above their heads also. The island people all suddenly felt intense burning in their eyes. “They're trying to blind us!” the elders yelled. The island people defended themselves and massacred the people of the other side. They rejoiced their victory for many weeks and harvested the fruits of the new land. They ate and ate until their bellies could not hold any more. Then they all became very sick and died.
Everyone died except for one man and one woman, Thomwa and Valvine. They had not been present for any of the events: the approaching of the fragments, the gathering of sticks and stones and diamond and potion, the murdering of the people of the other side, the feast of the fruits, or the sickness that destroyed the island people. They had been bathing in the fountain of life during the entire period as reward for discovering how to farm “Tah-ah”. When Thomwa and Valvine returned from their month long bath, all that was waiting to greet them were dead bodies, broken spears, and the cross pendants and pointed boxes. They buried the bodies, burned the spears, and hid the cross pendants and pointed boxes. They had many children and regrew their world. Eventually, many generations later, an elderly woman arrived and told them the meaning of the hidden gifts.
“Bible,” she told them. “This is a bible. This tells the story of these people. And this is a crucifix. It reminds the people of the sacrifice made by God's messenger so that they could hear God's voice. These people came in peace Thomwa and Valvine. These people wanted to share their love of God.” Thomwa and Valvine vowed to never allow anyone to forget this. Thomwa and Valvine vowed that there would always be tea.
Emansu and Abonto piled flat gray stones around a cauldron of stream water until the stones encompassed it like a volcano does to lava. They rubbed sticks and smashed rocks to set a small blaze beneath. They threw tea leaves down the spout of the volcano and piled open coconuts around its base. The tea preparation was complete. If people from another side of the world were to arrive today or any other day, they would be greeted by Emansu and Abonto with an offering of hot tea instead of violence. This, Thomwa and Valvine had said, this was how to embrace the peoples of the other side when the fragments unionized again.
For Emansu and Abonto, tea preparation represented the best role that anyone could be given; the entire day was spent in leisure because no one ever arrived at union beach. “Well Emansu, what game do you want to play today? Should we play stone toss? I bet I can cup two stones in the first match. I've been practicing a lot since yesterday.”
“No I don't think so. I was up late at the entertainment hall listening to Rocero and Betham sing about their love for one another last night. I was thinking that maybe we could just watch that duck out there for a while instead.” A black sea duck floated amidst the waves and frequently dove under for sustenance. “I'm guessing he pops out directly in front of the second palm tree.”
“Ha, ha. Alright. I've got that patch of bulrush over there.” They waited for many moments until the duck finally resurfaced two hundred yards to the left of where it had submerged. “My God, that's unbelievable! He's way over there by that white boat! I didn't even see that boat!”
“Boat? Where?”
“To the left and deep. Do you see it?” Emansu squinted in the Sun and used his hand as a hat brim as he navigated the ocean. His gaze stopped and his head dropped.
“Oi,” he said. “They're back.”
“Who?” Abonto queried with transparent concern laced in his voice. “Who's back?”
“Hmmmpphhh. The fishers Abonto. I know for certain that its them. See how their decks are filled with boxes, their cabins with hooks and rope? I can't believe they're back again so soon; I thought they had already taken all of the fish these waters had.” The boats were white with red copper trim. Large antennae grew out of the cabin roofs and extended high into the sky. Flags were flown from the roofs, but the images looked more like graffiti than an emblem. The water in front of the boat looked flat while everything behind it appeared as if it were being mixed and churned. And then there was the blood. Blood poured from the sides of the boat as if it too were dying alongside the fish.
Emansu and Abonto watched for many hours, all the while flapping their arms in an effort to get the attention of the boats. They never did get their attention. “Thousands,” Emansu said. “Thousands of fish they got. And what did we get?” he said angrily. “What did the waters get?”
“Three tin cylinders.” The two left union beach broken-hearted from the harshness of this unfair trade. “I just don't know what to do about those damn fishers. They just take and they take and they take.”
“Easy Abonto. You know what we have to do. We just have to keep waving our arms. Eventually they will come and have tea with us.”
As they walked single file along the trail etched through the sharp grass of the dunes, the Sun began to set. The sky turned a deep pink beneath the dark purple clouds that were trying to mask the golden Sun. The sand was cold now and they both stopped to insert their feet into their leather sandals. Emansu looked up at Abonto solemnly, as if he had just been cheated out of his life's earnings. “They act as if they own the water Abonto. They act as if the water is just for them.”
“I know Emansu. But so do we. We have rules, but only amongst ourselves. Come on, there's a gathering around the oak tree tonight. A lost soul was discovered in the jungle and the chief is going to speak to him tonight. We shouldn't be late.” They walked again silently as the Sun continued to fade away.
“The sky is red tonight.” Emansu stopped again and raised his nostrils up to the sky to take a deep, soothing breath.
“I know Emansu, I know. The fishers will be back again tomorrow.”
Chapter 20 – The Perfection Garden
“Because being idealistic is unrealistic in the world we see today.”
The ascent out of the cave was much easier than the earlier descent as Winston and Magenta could now walk with their eyes open. His questions had chewed up much of the day and the time had caused Magenta to contain her excitement that had spawned from meeting a westerner again. Winston would not be allowed to consume the recipe for living to 50. Not before he had first met the chief. It didn't matter. Sometimes a picture can tell you everything you need to know.
The Sun was down when they reached ground level. Magenta informed Winston that she would be taking him to meet the chief at the oak tree personally. They walked calmly beneath the stars until they met a locked gate. They climbed over and continued on their way through trampled field grass and dung patties. The events of the cave had done little to meddle with Winston's thoughts and he remained quiet and optimistic. The smiles on the faces of the children, along with Magenta's confidence, had normalized everything. Things that would normally seem crazy now just seemed like “the way it goes.” Maybe he was finding what he needed in this place.
Magenta explained to him that they relied heavily on the land to live. They raised cows, sheep, goats, and chickens and grew barley, potatoes, carrots, and pineapples. She told him that there were very strict rules in place to control how much food they produced. Before the start of each growing season, the villagers would decide on how much food they would need to have in order to all stay full for the year. They would then plant exactly that amount.
In this way, they would not rob any unnecessary nutrients from the soil and thus the land would continue to be rich for many generations. Every single person was responsible for this in the village. “Over-production is the same as over-consumption!” They climbed another gate, and the trampled field grass and dung patties were exchanged for dirt and broken stones. Powerful blue and green lights in the near distance caught Winston's gaze. An orange and white border encircled the flickering blue and green lights like a lie does a beautiful woman, while a bright bewildering beacon of chance shone high up into the sky. Distant white lights awoke like bull frogs awaiting dinner and suddenly the village seemed more like home. But it was still dark. The beautiful lights brought comforting familiarity, but they couldn't create change. Winston still had no idea what he was getting into and could only relax when he denied his consciousness. As the gap narrowed between themselves and the lights, hundreds of shadows emerged. “They're celebrating,” Magenta said. “There must have been more children born today.” A mighty fire roared in the middle of the shadows while the glow of the crescent moon above reached down to meet the blaze.
“It's beautiful,” Winston admired. She stopped walking, took him by the hand, and breathed deeply.
“Yes it is.”
“La-la-lu-lu-la-la! La-la-lu-lu-la-la! La-lina-lina-luey!” Dirt flew through the flickering air as hundreds of people stomped their feet and sang triumphantly. Winston and Magenta had reached the old oak tree and he deemed it to be even more beautiful close up. Fireflies could be seen trapped inside hand-blown glass prisms hung from the tree. They cascaded their light onto the cold dirt dance floor. In the background loomed a large thatched roof held up by four palm trees that concealed two long wooden benches capable of seating a small army. The benches were empty now except for one seated shadow.
“It's time,” Magenta said, grabbing him by the arm and walking him to the benches. “Chief. This is the lost soul the men found in the jungle.”
Searching for the Fountain of Youth Page 10
