by Patrick Wong
When she opened her eyes, she found herself strung out on the floor, lying in Amy’s arms.
“Thank God!” Amy cried.
Nicole felt Amy’s arms surround her, and a wetness on her own cheek suggested that Amy had been crying.
“I’m OK. Really.”
“Nicole, you had us scared with your zombie gaze. Were you somewhere else?” Ben asked, taking Nicole’s other arm and helping her to her feet.
Nicole nodded and accepted the can of soda Drake was offering.
“This is it,” she whispered. “The Fountain of Youth.”
“This … well?” Amy retorted incredulously.
Nicole nodded. “I was here. Or a Balancer was here. I can feel it.”
Amy, Ben and Drake took another look around to appreciate the significance of their discovery. They had set out to find an old amusement park ride, but instead they had found undiscovered areas below the original amusement park itself.
A sound of sliding stone suddenly alerted them that they weren’t alone, however. The wall was beginning to ease to one side, and a sliver of light grew wider and wider between the cracks of some stones. The mystery person who had lit all the torches was about to be revealed.
The old man climbed into the well several feet from them and dusted himself off before speaking. “There’s no need to be afraid,” the man said with a huge smile. “I’ve been waiting such a long time for this.”
To Ben, the man’s voice was familiar. He stepped forward, craning to get a better view of the figure emerging from the shadows. He wore an old tweed jacket with corduroy trousers, and he had wiry white hair and age spots on hands.
Ben felt a huge surge of relief.
“It’s OK.” Ben turned back and smiled at his friends. “It’s OK! Do you know who this is?”
Ben reached out and vigorously shook Professor Jim Barnard’s hand. Barnard was the man from the obscure Web videos, the one who had spoken of the Balancer myth. Barnard was the man who knew more about Balancers than anybody else did. Barnard was their Yoda.
Story Time
After everyone had made their introductions, the professor brought out his thermos of minestrone soup. He poured some into the cap and offered the contents around the group. Nicole hadn’t noticed how hungry she was — somehow the chill fall air had triggered an appetite that soda and sweets couldn’t fix.
Ben was first to take a sip, reiterating his assurances that everyone could trust Professor Barnard. The disheveled old man was rather touched by the boy’s assertion. By the weatherworn look on his face, it appeared he hadn’t put a high priority on his appearance in quite a while.
Nicole took a sip from the plastic cup of hot soup. It was good — soothing, peppery noodle broth with comforting lumps of vegetables.
“So, what? You’re telling me you’ve been camped out here with your soup waiting for Nicole to show up?” Drake asked. He’d refused the cup.
“Since the hijacking, yes.” The professor poured himself some soup in a coffee mug for himself and took a sip. “There were other occasions when I thought you might have been on your way. Like the wildfire. I knew that was you. Brilliant! I came and waited then, too.”
Nicole shrugged and took in more soup.
“So that’s all you do? Make soup and wait around for Nicole?” Drake asked acerbically.
Barnard ignored it, having taught a thousand of this boy’s kind in his lifetime.
“Truth be told, I was about to give up on you ever appearing. It was just a theory, I thought this place would draw you to it.” A twinkle appeared in his eyes, and he gave a wiggle of excitement, as if a chill had just run down his spine. “And here you are!”
“We would have come sooner, but the FBI is looking for me.” Nicole fiddled with the string on her sweatshirt.
“Of course they are. Of course, my dear.” Barnard didn’t seem surprised.
“Do they know about you?”
“Oh, yes. They know of me,” Barnard began. “Through a mutual acquaintance.”
“DuBois?” Ben offered.
A cold look passed over Barnard’s kind eyes then, and he lifted his finger and indicated to the wider room. His excitement seemed to have turned to paranoia in that moment.
“Sorry,” Ben whispered.
“We should go now. Yes, I think that’s best. Let’s go.”
Barnard stood up, brushing the dust from his cords.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Drake said, standing up too. “Forgive me for stating the obvious, but we just met you.”
“No, but …” Ben began.
Drake waved Ben down. “Fanboy here might have YouTubed you a thousand times, but he trusted your buddy before that, and that didn’t turn out well.”
Amy raised her arm in a mock vote. “Ditto. I’m feeling the lack of trust, too.”
“Sure, he has a point. You all shouldn’t trust implicitly. That makes sense.” Barnard screwed the cap back on his thermos and sat back down. “How about a story? Yes! Why don’t I tell you what I know, and then you can decide if you would find it useful to come with me.”
Barnard looked around the group, as if to get their permission first.
“So, shoot,” Drake said. He joined Amy on the ground, placing his arm around her shoulders.
Barnard nodded and began. “So, Nicole knows it. I suspect she even feels it. But the room we’re sitting in was the original chamber of the legendary Fountain of Youth. This all happened when Ponce de León was alive, so cast your mind back to the ride you were on earlier. We’re looking at the 1500s now. In that time, people would flock from all over to visit it. Some of those coins you found back there are themselves pretty valuable.” He bent down to pick one up and examine it, a tinge of regret in his voice as he explained. “And I am a little ashamed to say, I have had to pawn a few of these to survive since I’ve gone underground. But where was I? Oh, yes. In the time before, the villages around here were rumored to be harboring a gifted young healer. She would only be found by request, and you would have to go through a few people before you could get to her. She would see the sick, the wounded and the dying. The people surrounding her were her buffers. They protected her. See, she was just a girl, after all. She had one opinion, but she knew that hers wasn’t the only one out there, and, like most smart people, she surrounded herself with a variety of opinions. So, anyone coming to seek her would have to be pointed in the right direction by her four or five protectors.”
“She was a Balancer?” Nicole asked.
“Yes, exactly! A Balancer!” Barnard could barely contain his enthusiasm whenever he said the word.
Nicole allowed the words to sink in. Ben’s research had actually borne the truth. She had seen this man — younger then — lecture on YouTube. And she was finding it fascinating to hear him speak and be in his charismatic glow.
“So, one day, a stranger came into town. He was good-looking, smart and cunning. And, one by one, he managed to fool the girl’s friends so that, eventually, he got to meet her. He convinced her that if her friends trusted him, then she could too, and he wormed his way into her affections. For a time, they worked together, the Balancer and the stranger. They would see people together and she would heal them. But what she couldn’t have known was that he was a charlatan. And he was greedy.” Barnard took a moment, allowing his words to sink in.
“Gradually, her friends began to realize that he was having too much influence on their friend, the girl, which meant she would begin to rely on him more. They tried to point it out to her, but by then the charlatan had worked his poison into her. He manipulated her and she listened, convinced her friends were just jealous of their relationship, and that they wanted the girl to stay sad and alone forever, only existing to help others.”
Amy reached out and held Nicole’s hand.
“One by one, he drove her old friends away. Most of them left town — they had only stuck around for her, anyway. So, she was left alone, with the charlatan as her only protector
.”
“Presumably he slipped up?” Drake asked.
“He did. And she was angry. She discovered that he was taking payment for her work, and she confronted him. He responded to this by entombing her in a well. This well, in fact. And he turned her gifts into a circus sideshow attraction.”
“So what happened?” Ben asked, spellbound.
“The charlatan sent out a new story. That the girl had run away, but that before she did, she had imparted her gift on the waters of this well. This was how the Fountain of Youth tale began. That people would come to this island and drop their coins down here to make a wish. He had not robbed the girl of hope entirely. He let her know her friends would remain safe if she did as he asked. If she didn’t, he swore he would hunt them all down and kill them. So there she stayed, ruing the day she ever met him, regretting that she hadn’t listened to her friends’ warnings, and holding fast to her own vow to protect them — to redress her wrongs. She lived here, trapped under stone and hearing the pleas of others — a tragic fate given that her own voice could not be heard.”
“She didn’t try to get help?”
“Oh, she did try. But he would punish her. Threaten to hurt her beloved friends and family. Or, sometimes, he would just drop rocks on her.”
“Drop rocks … on her?” Amy seemed incredulous.
“When she cried for help, yes. So, after a while, like anyone would, she stopped crying for help.”
“That’s so sad.” Amy kept her hand linked with Nicole’s.
“And yet for all of that, people would still be healed. They would cry down their sorrows and pain, and she would hear them. Even the times the charlatan didn’t watch to see whether she was behaving, she would heal them. He had broken her spirit to fight for herself, but she still found the strength to help others.”
“She didn’t get out, did she?” Nicole asked, half not wanting to hear the answer. “That was her,” she indicated to the chained skeleton on the floor.
“No, I’m afraid she didn’t get out,” Barnard replied. “One day, the charlatan’s greed caught up with him. He was on his way with bread and cheese for the Balancer, but his years of avarice and gluttony had strained what amounted to his heart. They say he was in the marketplace when he felt the first pangs of pain in his chest. He called out for her to help him, but she was too far away. She kept thinking he would return, so she did not cry for help. She stayed here, hungry and alone, and eventually perished from her sadness. But one thing is certain: She was healing people up until her very last breaths.”
Nicole sat back, fixated on the remains of this sad girl.
“So,” Barnard continued, “I am no charlatan. I’ve studied this mythology most of my adult life, though I know this young man has probably got it all now.” He patted Ben on the shoulder. “I might be of some use to you. And rather than sitting here at the bottom of a cold well on a chilly fall night, I think it’s best that we leave for more comfortable surroundings. So, here’s what I offer: I have a boat just beyond these doors. And I have a warm hotel room — a treehouse hotel, actually. And I can offer you safety, at least for tonight. I swear on my life, I will not lock you in. For what it’s worth, you can trust me.” Barnard looked at their faces to see whether that was enough assurance.
“Plus, this young man here looks like he could really kick my skinny-old-man butt if I get out of line,” he added.
This made Drake smile. “OK, OK,” Drake said, standing up. “I’m in.”
He helped Amy to her feet, and Ben followed.
Nicole didn’t smile, but nodded as if she were in a trance, and she simply followed their lead.
She trailed her friends back through the passageway that led up to the steep stone steps. She turned once more to glance back at the girl’s skeleton, chained by her ankle to a wall. She had been all alone when she died, thought Nicole to herself.
Was this how it all played out? That girl’s fate could be hers.
Was this the fate of all Balancers?
Thanks, 15th-Century
Spaniards
Barnard’s motorboat drew up alongside another dock, which Ben hadn’t spotted before. It was at the tip of Adventure World, in the zone entitled “Adventure Safari World.” Tying the vessel to the landing post, the group began to disembark, making their way across the wooden beams and through the long, narrow bed of reeds. The way before them was lit by small lights implanted in the wooden dock. The setup was polished and new — different from the dilapidated island they had just left.
The hotel in front of them was unlike anything they had seen before. It was many acres of exotic-looking treehouses spread throughout an African savanna-like setting. All of the treehouses were connected via suspended wooden bridges over the grasslands. Even in the dark, they could see the silhouettes of dozens of different types of animals moving closer to see who had arrived.
These treehouses were the themed hotel grounds connected to the main Adventure Safari World park.
“Giraffes! I love giraffes!” Amy exclaimed.
“Watch out. They bite,” Drake cautioned.
“That’s why she likes them,” Nicole joked, easing herself out of the shaky boat and onto terra firma.
Amy, Ben and Drake helped Barnard out of the boat. The professor still seemed star-struck at being in Nicole’s presence. Barnard pointed to one of the larger treehouses off to the right and separated from the others. “That’s where we’ll be staying.”
“Way cool!” Ben exclaimed, still feeling giddy over the entire situation.
Meanwhile, Amy had run several feet onto the suspended bridges to get closer to one of the giraffes she’d seen from the boat.
“Did you see they’ve got a zebra in there too?” Nicole was scanning down the list of park inhabitants. “His name is Geoff.”
“That’s a funny name for a zebra.”
“Look, there’s a bunch of antelope!”
The creatures, currently grazing nearby, had joined their fellow park animals in checking out the unexpected visitors.
Nicole approached an opening where the guests could reach the sections that contained the quieter animals, and she quickly bonded with a gentle baby zebra who had inched his way up to the bridge. The zebra lowered his head, and Nicole stroked his fur.
Barnard had been standing back the way a teacher might on a field trip. He was genuinely pleased with the way this evening was turning out. He didn’t want the group to stay exposed too long, however, so after a few minutes, he beckoned them to follow him to their treehouse.
Amy took some persuading to move away from the animals, but the group eventually started to move over the suspended walkways toward the themed treehouse.
Like Willy Wonka leading a group of visitors to his secret chocolate factory, Barnard spun around on his heels to describe the reasons he had chosen this hotel. “It’s actually quite ingenious of me. This safari hotel is the most remote location in the park. And, because of the animals, this area has a curfew, so it’s extremely quiet at night. And no cars would be allowed to park nearby, except for those belonging to hotel guests. Not to mention the fact that it’s simply amazing to live in a treehouse over an African savanna.”
Barnard had a little haste in his step as they approached the treehouse. He slid his keycard to unlock the door and entered the room.
Inside the main room was a circular-shaped, African-themed hotel suite with decorative flourishes here and there — dark woods, animal patterns. And the bedding had convincing African art designs.
Without saying a word, Barnard unscrewed the light bulb from a lighting fixture and removed a small recording device. He inserted it into his phone and began to scroll through. After a while of tense silence, he gave a sigh of relief.
“We’re clear. Nobody has been in the room.”
Ben was glued to his side. “I’ve read about those. It records sounds?”
“Sounds, motion and video,” Barnard corrected Ben. “It’s military-grade surveil
lance electronics from a government contractor.” Barnard handed it to Ben, who began to examine it in detail. “Knock yourself out, Ben.”
Ben didn’t need second invitation.
“Now make yourselves at home, guys.” Barnard grabbed a folder from the desk and threw it to Drake. “Room service is on me.” He proceeded to move to the mirrored wardrobe, from which he produced what looked like a large artist’s portfolio. A lock held the clasp shut, and after punching in a code, he unzipped it, opening it wide to reveal a mobile operations memo board.
“Whoa.” The papers, ancient manuscripts and diagrams made even Ben look away from his spy device.
Just then, Amy exited the bathroom with an excited grin on her face.
“The bathroom sounds like you’re in the middle of a jungle. And the toilet roars when you flush it! I love it!” She skimmed down at the papers. “Wow, Ben, you must really feel at home now.” She laughed, and bounded on the bed, trampoline-like. Barnard glanced at her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
“Someone’s going to be wanting to sleep on that later,” he offered.
“I know,” Amy retorted, and with a swift double kick of her legs, she bounced down to a seated position. She grabbed the menu out of Drake’s hands, all interest in animal-themed accommodations having left her. “Ooh, food.”
“Before we look at all of that, is it safe enough for me to call my dad?” Nicole asked.
“Sure,” Barnard replied, pointing Ben’s attention to a paper he had only just acquired.
Nicole reached for her cell phone and dialed “Bob.” It rang twice.
“Mouse?”
This was their code word. If he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, or if they were in danger of being overheard, he would answer with a normal hello.
“Dad. We’re OK. We’re safe.”
“Thank God,” he choked out. “This … This is so hard for me and your mom. God knows what you must be going through.”
Nicole was taken aback — her father wouldn’t usually admit to such feelings. She faltered for a moment, trying to formulate her next words.
