The Footsteps of Cain
Page 39
LUCKILY, THERE IS REWARD FOR PROGRESS. EVERY TIME WE DID THIS, I SAW IT. IT HAPPENED SLOWER THAN I WOULD HAVE LIKED, PROBABLY DUE TO THE PSYCHOLOGICAL DAMAGE YOU SUFFERED FROM WHAT SHALEER DID TO YOU, AND THEN WHAT YOU DID AFTER THAT. BUT, EVEN AFTER EACH FAILURE, I SAW YOU COMING CLOSER. AND NOW...FINALLY...YOU DID IT. YOU’VE ACCEPTED YOUR ROLE IN WHAT YOU DID, SEEN PAST YOUR OWN PAIN, AND MADE THE CONSCIOUS DECISION TO AVOID REPEATING THE MISTAKE. THAT’S ALL I WAS WAITING FOR.
“What about Shaleer? What will become of him?”
The voice sighed.
SADLY, SHALEER HASN’T BECOME AS ENLIGHTENED AS YOU, QUITE YET. HE’S CHOSEN THE SAME TIRED CONCLUSION OF DESTROYING HIMSELF, OVER AND OVER, WITH LITTLE SIGN OF PROGRESS. HE’S IN IT FOR THE LONG HAUL, I’M AFRAID. BUT, I’LL KEEP WORKING WITH HIM. IT’S WHAT I DO.
He felt a pang of sadness for his friend. For whatever Shaleer had done to him, he would cherish the memories they’d built, when they were young. It hadn’t all been fake. There was a time that they were true life-brothers, before the blight of their crimes, the jealousy...the despicable things they’d done to one another. For as long as Ejelano could remember, he’d wanted to make Shaleer suffer for what he did, as he himself suffered. Little did he know, Shaleer was chained to the same rock. It bonded them together again, in his mind. It would take longer for Ejelano to truly forgive him, but the hate in his heart, at least and long last, had been quenched and cast out.
He looked around. The edge of the abyss was still hungry, still pursuing him from all sides. The dirt was still crumbling and falling away, and now the radius of safety had dropped to under five paces. It would be on him within a minute.
“So what do we do, now?” he asked.
WE SAY GOODBYE, AND YOU MOVE ON. I’M NOT SUCH A BAD GUY, YOU KNOW. YOU WON’T REMEMBER THIS, BUT I TRIED ALL KINDS OF DIFFERENT TECHNIQUES WITH YOU; I WASN’T ALWAYS THE BOUNDLESSLY EVIL DEMON ASSHOLE THAT YOU’VE COME TO KNOW AND LOVE. UNFORTUNATELY, “NICE AND NURTURING” DIDN’T HAVE A CHANCE OF PUTTING A DENT IN THAT PSYCHE OF YOURS. WITH YOU, I NEEDED TO GO NUCLEAR.
The spirit chuckled.
YEP, YOU WERE A HARD FUCKING NUT TO CRACK. DEFINITELY IN MY TOP FIVE. BUT, THAT’S WHY YOU WERE SENT TO ME. I’M THE BEST THERE IS AT WHAT I DO, BABY. JUST ASK ANYBODY IN THE OFFICE. MY “EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH” STREAK IS...SHALL WE SAY...CONSIDERABLE. YOU SHOULD SEE THOSE FUCKERS’ FACES, WHENEVER THEY ROLL OUT THE MONTHLY CAKE AND IT’S ME WHO GOT IT, AGAIN. HA! THAT ALONE MAKES ALL THIS WORTH IT!
Ejelano ruminated on the their bizarre relationship. Master and slave, but all the while secretly teacher and student. The jokester, and the ever-constant-butt of the joke. In almost all of his conscious memory, the spirit had been his tormentor, and consequently it was difficult to think of it with any kind of fondness even as he recognized the value of what he’d been taught. It was a strange kind of inner conflict; to have something that he’d hated in his life for so long, to have gone from despair to anger to begrudging acceptance of its torment, and now knowing that it was all necessary to arrive at where he stood. He felt like a youngling who had finally, honestly glimpsed the wisdom of his parents’ harsh lessons. He felt better for having learned the lesson, but would always feel the burn of what was needed to teach it.
“I don’t expect we’ll see each other, after this.”
PROBABLY NOT. I SUPPOSE A “THANK YOU” IS A TAD TOO MUCH TO EXPECT?
Ejelano made a face.
FINE. JUST THOUGHT I’D GIVE YOU THE CHANCE, THAT’S ALL.
He felt something shifting in his brain, like it was an old couch and somebody had just stood up from it. A weight...left him. The voice in his head grunted and sighed.
ALRIGHT...GO ON, THEN. YOU-KNOW-WHO’S WAITIN’. AND FOR FUCK’S SAKE, BE GOOD, ALRIGHT? IF YOU END UP BACK HERE AGAIN, THEY MIGHT TAKE AWAY MY PARKING SPACE.
He nodded a silent promise.
In the air before him, a slit appeared, about as high as he was tall. It wavered, floating there, and then widened to form a doorway. Vibrant, green and blue hues beckoned to him, the color of which he’d not seen in what felt like forever. A breeze blew out from it and enveloped him with its sweet succulence, tempting him with the scent of leaves, bark, and flowers in the spring. He knew that smell. It was impossible to forget; it was the smell of his youth...the smell of laughter and providence.
There was another scent, one that rose above the rest and increased his pulse rate. The smell of sun-touched skin and waves of auburn hair. And then, a whisper of a woman’s voice, enticing him with its music, its magnetic notes. Assurances of unbroken unity and life everlasting filled his ears, far from anything he’d known under the tutelage of the spirit. This one, this new life, was soft and inviting...lazy and playful. The hard eternity of his penance melted from his body and he felt renewed.
He stood, fascinated, and walked to the doorway. As he craned his neck, curiously trying to make out the details of the world beyond, the voice boomed an exasperated, final sentiment into his head.
I SWEAR, SO HELP ME, IF YOU DON’T GO NOW, I WILL MAKE YOU KILL THE WORLD, AGAIN. JUST FUCKING GO! AND...DON’T FORGET TO USE A RUBBER.
Ejelano stepped off the last patch of earth...the last scrap of a dissolving, fabricated universe...and entered the portal.
The first thing he saw was the tree.
It wasn’t burning...and the landscape surrounding it wasn’t hellish. Everything was lush and full of life, free of the touch of the evil the spirit had shown him, before. The tree rose up and up, and the healthy green of the leaves made him gasp at their beauty...their majesty. The great limbs reached to the clear sapphire of the sky, to the giver of life, the marigold-yellow of the sun. While its boughs sought the heavens, its trunk plunged into the perfect emerald grass, into the nourishment of the soil...the spirit of the earth itself.
The second thing he noticed was the small form of a woman, standing in the shade of the majestic tree. She was waving to him, ushering him to join her. He could just make out her smile, those perfectly aligned teeth encircled by soft, plump lips. He knew every curve of her body, and the soul within. As Ejelano looked on her, he felt the last shard of his burden slip from him, and then the shadowy claw of his past released him and he was finally free. In the future, he would think of his ordeal...how could he not...but in that glorious present it receded to the back of his mind and sat patiently on its hindquarters, its teeth dulled and its bark muted. He was left to enjoy the deliciousness of the moment in all its sublime purity and promise.
The dark silhouette of the woman abruptly turned, and clambered halfway up the trunk of the tree with practiced ease. She paused and looked back with expectation. A ray of sunlight penetrated the undulating leaves and fell upon her, and her eyes flashed. She gave him one last, impish grin, and then she scrambled up, into the cover of the leaves and out of sight.
Ejelano let loose a great, bellowing laugh, and broke out into a sprint for the trunk.
* * *
Epilogue – Banoro and Elhadra
The Past
The great chieftain and his wife stood by the graves, looking down upon them alongside the specters of sadness and regret, but also sharing a sense of satisfaction, now that the chapter of ill fortune had been closed. The three, playthings of a cruel Fate, had been laid to rest near one another so that their spirits could mingle in the leaves of the beyond, and a quiet peace could begin to heal the scars left by the recent, joyless events.
First Shaleer, on the left. He, who through the fragments of varied testimony they’d come to understand had started the rolling boulder of the tragedy.
“I fear we never understood him,” Banoro whispered, looking on the disturbed earth that embraced Shaleer’s body.
Elhadra nodded. “His pain was left to fester. His burden was all of ours to recognize...all of our responsibility. It is a lesson that we must place in our hearts and lock in tightly. Our vigilance will ensure it never happens again.”
Banoro’s eyes remained clouded.
“How can we be sure of this? We can’t see into the true heart of all the people. If there is darkness in them as there was in his, we might never know until after the last hour.” He scowled. “The prospect...it frightens me.”
“The great Banoro, afraid?” she teased. “I would never believe it.” She entwined her arm around his and pulled him close to her. “Oh, my love...you have been so gifted with your wisdom that you don’t need me to say it, but I shall anyway. We feed the roots of others with the nourishment of our trust. That has always been our way. Our prospering. This event has set itself deeply into their hearts and been given its proper ponderance. The people will remember, as will we.”
Banoro turned his attention to the grave on the right.
“Her family bears a pain that few will ever know. Should ever have to know. She’s the only true innocent in all of this, the only blameless one.”
“And in being so, she will pay no price. Her suffering, although considerable, was brief, and it is over. There is no pain left for her...she has passed beyond its grasp. If any are allowed to pass into the welcoming boughs of the beyond, it is she.”
The imposing leader brought his gaze to the middle grave...slowly...as if his eyes resisted his mind’s command to look upon it.
“Oh, Ejelano,” he said, breathing out a sigh that spoke of his grief, his unhealed wound. “Of all, it had to be you. So much potential...denied. He held in himself the very best of us.”
She nodded.
“And the worst,” she added.
He looked on her with reproach.
“Speak no ill of the dead, woman.”
She slapped the considerable bulge of his bicep, sharply. He winced.
“Use your brain before your mouth, man. You know very well that I respected and loved him as much as you. That I still do. But even as dear to me as he was, there is no denying his part in this. He has given us a great gift, in teaching us that even in the greatest of men lies the will to do the greatest evil, and that even the ones of us who exhibit the most control can have it slip from their grip.”
Her tone softened.
“No, you aren’t the only one who held him dear. We will remember what he meant to us, and in doing so ensure that he won’t be thought upon as a monster; only a man, who was led astray in a single moment. We are not a foolish people. We know the difference. We will remember.”
Banoro opened his mouth, then closed it, keeping whatever he was going to say in his mind. A few minutes passed as they stood there, together, paying respects and processing the contents of their minds and hearts.
“His dwelling is to be taken down,” Banoro said, breaking the silence. “Scattered to the woods, cleansed by the soil. The only thing that will remain is the stone. You say the people will remember...I say maybe so...but the stone will always stand to keep the memory rigidly in place. I do have trust in our people, but at the same time they are only flesh and blood...vulnerable to the same primitive influences that could overcome one so great as he.”
She reached up, cupping his broad chin in her hand, and gently turned his face to hers.
“This is your last decree?”
He smiled.
“So it is. My time is finished.”
“Regrets?”
“Of course. They cannot be avoided. But I know myself pretty well, after all these years. I forgive myself for the things I wasn’t enlightened enough to side-step.” As he looked at her, his face sagged with an enduring sadness. “The only regret that will continue to truly plague me is that I was unable to give you what you wanted most. I estimate our home to be a happy one, with only the two of us...but I will forever hear the sounds of the younglings as a reminder of a gift not given.”
She pulled his face down and kissed him firmly on the lips. Then she pulled back, still holding his face, and looked purposefully into his eyes where...as in her own...tears were shimmering.
“I love you, you old fool,” she said. “Don’t you see? You’ve given me more than a mere houseful of younglings. They are all our younglings...every one...the young, and the old. You are their father, and I, their mother. No, they did not spring into life from our bodies, but they are ours, nonetheless. That will never change, even after the ceremony, after the Cycle is passed on. We have cared for them as parents do, and that is more than enough. This regret you have...be rid of it. It doesn’t own me, and I won’t let it have you.”
His grinned broadened, even as his tears trickled down. He held her close again, and she rested her head against his considerable chest. A hush fell in the forest around them, as if out of respect or a fear of intrusion or both of those things. The breeze brushed gently at their bodies, bringing with it a refreshing chill that equalized the sun. They were one with the forest and one another, she half of him, and he half of her in return.
Still in his arms, Elhadra looked again upon the graves at their feet.
“We should be happy for them. They are the luckiest of us...they now get to enjoy the dance of the leaves, firsthand. In truth, I’m a little jealous of them.”
“The virtuous and graceful Elhadra, jealous? How unbecoming.”
She laughed and pushed him away from her.
“You should go,” she said. “Olhando is waiting. The sooner you pass on the Cycle, the sooner I get you all to myself. I will meet you, back in our home.”
He bowed to her, grinning boyishly.
“As you wish, my lady. I will come as soon as I am able.”
With that, he turned and strode off through the woods, toward the village. Her eyes lingered fondly on his broad back as he went, and her heart was full. After he faded from sight she turned her attention to the grave markers, and sighed wistfully with thoughts of other possibilities, of other what-might-have-beens.
Suddenly Elhadra’s ears pricked, and her head jerked up. Had there been something on the air? Her instincts were telling her that she’d heard something, just beyond the inherent, audible frolicking of the forest, beyond the chirps of the birds and the rustling of the leaves. She stood still and silent with her brows furrowed, searching for the sound that may or may not have been. She uselessly searched the boughs above with curious eyes, cocking her head and straining her ears. For a full minute she did not move, hoping the source of the sound would reveal itself.
Alas, it did not. Only the natural cadence of the wood greeted her with its normal, comforting rhythm. She shrugged to herself, gave the three graves one last look, and then like her husband before her turned her feet in the direction of the village, pondering the queer nature of imagination.
Still, for a moment she’d been so convinced that she’d heard it, ghostly and distant, echoing through the branches above. It had sounded like...like...
...like children. Laughing.
About the Author
Derek Kohlhagen lives with his wife and daughter in central Illinois, and is lucky enough to be a stay-at-home dad (which presents him with adventures that he hopes to one day chronicle in their own epic compendium). He graduated from Illinois State University in 2000 with a B.S. In Computer Science, and worked in the IT industry for almost a decade before being given the opportunity to move on to professional domestic fatherhood, full time. As his daughter is now old enough to go to school all day, he’s been given the chance to pursue something that he’s always wanted to do: Write books.
Derek’s short story, Chalk Lines, was selected in 2011 for Downstate Story, a collection of work that showcases the talents of previously unpublished authors in central Illinois. The Footsteps of Cain is his first, self-published novel. He intends for there to be many more to follow.
To find out more about Derek:
Web page
derekkohlhagen.com
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facebook.com/derekkohlhagenauthor
Email
author@derekkohlhagen.com
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ts Amazon product page. Thank you!)
Table of Contents
Prologue – ???
BOOK ONE: THE SPIRE
Chapter 1 – Samuel
Chapter 2 – Samuel
Chapter 3 – Samuel
Chapter 4 – Tristan
Chapter 5 – ???
Chapter 6 – Samuel
Chapter 7 – Gorman
Chapter 8 – Samuel
Chapter 9 – Samuel
Chapter 10 – ???
Chapter 11 – Samuel
Chapter 12 – ???
Chapter 13 – Samuel
Chapter 14 – Ejelano
Chapter 15 – Samuel
Chapter 16 – Ejelano
Chapter 17 – Samuel
Chapter 18 – Samuel
Chapter 19 – Ejelano
Chapter 20 – Samuel
Chapter 21 – Ejelano
BOOK TWO: THE TALE OF EJELANO, THE FORMER
Chapter 22 – Ejelano
Chapter 23 – Shaleer
Chapter 24 – Ejelano
Chapter 25 – Lena
Chapter 26 – Ejelano
Chapter 27 – Ejelano
Chapter 28 – Ejelano
Chapter 29 – Olhando
Chapter 30 – Ejelano
Chapter 31 – Ejelano
Chapter 32 – Ejelano
Chapter 33 – Olhando
Chapter 34 – Ejelano
Chapter 35 – Ejelano
BOOK THREE: THE END OF THE WORLD
Chapter 36 – Ejelano
Chapter 37 – Samuel
Chapter 38 – ???
Chapter 39 – Samuel
Chapter 40 – Samuel
Chapter 41 – Ejelano
Chapter 42 – Tristan
Chapter 43 – Samuel
Chapter 44 – Samuel
Chapter 45 – Ejelano