The Bridge Home

by Matthew Williams

  He took a wooden spoon out of his pack and laid out a rag on the sand. One by one he scooped the small crabs out of the boiling water and onto the rag. When he was finished, the pile of crabs sat in the sand, steam rising into the sky.

  “I know it is not a meal fit for a prince, but when you are hungry you will be surprised how delicious even the smallest bit of food can taste,” Obasi said. He grabbed one of the crabs, popped it into his mouth and chewed. “Go ahead, try one.”

  Akiiki picked a steaming crab and eyed it suspiciously. “Best not to investigate it too much,” Obasi joked.

  Akiiki put it in his mouth and bit down hard. The taste of salt water filled his mouth, along with the grittiness of sand. He crunched through the last few bites and swallowed sharply.

  “It is in no way a delicacy,” Obasi laughed. “Even out here in the brush these crabs are a last resort but seeing as we have no other source of food, we are in no position to turn down any gift of food we are blessed with. Just try and eat, food in your stomach can do wonders for your mood.”

  Akiiki finished his share of crabs and they spent the rest of the day filling the water pouches and taking quick cooling dips in the ocean. By the time all the pouches were filled with water and their thirst had been satisfied, night had fallen over the desert floor.

  Obasi pulled out five small jars and a small plate from his pack as a stillness settled in the air. He carefully opened the jars and quietly began to hum as he sprinkled a little powder from each jar onto the small plate and mixed them together with his thumb. When he finished, he looked up at Akiiki with a look in his eyes that made Akiiki’s heart jump. In the light of the crackling fire, the life seemed drained from his face, and his stare was distant and cold.

  “Are you ready?” Obasi asked in a voice that Akiiki did not recognize.

  Akiiki choked down a lump of fear, and before he could answer, Obasi poured the powder from the plate into the fire and began to chant. A thick smoke rose from the fire and filled the air around them. Obasi took a small feather out of his pack and stuck it in the sand in front of Akiiki.

  Suddenly his chanting stopped, and he brought his hands together in a thunderous clap.

  The smoke rushed past Akiiki, swirling violently through the air towards the feather. As it collected around the feather it started to take shape until eventually, a small grey eagle stood looking at Akiiki with blank featureless eyes. Akiiki blinked with surprise and looked up at Obasi, whose eyes were clouded white. He turned his attention back to the eagle that stood motionless in the sand before him, and for a moment, wondered if he was dreaming. Then, without warning, the eagle cocked his head to the side and let out a bloodcurdling screech that cut through Akiiki like a knife through the air. A warmth slowly worked its way forward from the back of his head. Once it reached his eyes his body went limp and he tumbled softly onto his side in the sand.

  WIND RUSHED PAST his face and through his feathers as he opened his eyes to a world without boundaries. He looked from side to side as he softly glided high above the desert sands. His thoughts were crisp and clear. Free of fear, doubt and expectation, he existed solely within the moment.

  With an easy flap of his wings, the earth drifted lazily away as he climbed into the sky, further and further away from the sand below. He soared amongst the clouds effortlessly, his body one with the currents of the wind. He corrected his course with only a slight turn of his wing, while in the world beneath him, he sensed a sad emptiness compared to the full freedom of the sky.

  Soft voices sang to him in each passing gust of wind. Voices that built into a beautiful melody as the wind whipped and circled around him. As the music caught his ears and reverberated down into his chest and deep into his soul, his body responded in a natural rhythm, bobbing and weaving through the air to every note.

  He danced with the wind for hours, riding the current of sharp highs and deep bellowing lows until he could no longer separate the song from his dance. The wind died down in a brief intermission, and the voices rested as they collected their strength for the next verse of the symphony he played with the sky. After countless verses he realized the harmony of his movements were not simply due to the music played by the wind, but instead, were a part of the music itself. With each flap of his wing and tilt of his tail feathers, the pitch of the song swayed with his movements.

  Free from the tug of the worlds expectations, he explored the peaks and valleys of the winds beautiful voice. The limitlessness of the sky waited patiently for his response and guided him from note to note.

  He eventually found himself soaring over a small village, and though the shrunken world beneath him seemed miles away, he saw clearly the toils of men and women as they worked in the hot desert sand.

  He circled around the village, eyeing every laborer hard at work. Their actions seemed strange and disjointed compared to his coordinated dance with the wind. His head cocked curiously, and he studied their clumsy movements as they went about their work.

  A tree stood not far from the village, and he swooped down and perched on one of its large branches. With his sharp talons around the dry wood, the melody in the wind faded away and he was left in silence. His eyes worked busily as he watched the men, women and children of the village hurry through their day.

  Then, a little girl turned towards the tree, pointed at him, and spoke. The sound of her voice was harsh and foreign to his ears and in one quick motion, he flapped his wings hard against the air and let out a screech. The world around him began to fade away, replaced by a darkness that eventually took complete hold of him as he fell into nothingness.

  ***

  “My Prince,” the words came to him through a fog.

  “My Prince.”

  He moved towards the voice as it echoed through his head and slowly he opened his eyes.

  “Breathe my son,” Obasi said as he patted Akiiki’s forehead with a damp cloth. “You are safe, just breathe.”

  Akiiki took a deep breath and sat up. Somehow, the world around him seemed clearer than he remembered. “Wh…what happened?” he asked.

  “You have experienced life with a deeper part of your mind. That’s all. Experiences that exist outside of the normal senses of men and women can often leave the mind searching for answers. But you mustn’t worry, it will get easier.”

  “I don’t understand,” Akiiki stuttered as he looked around, trying to place himself in a world that suddenly felt foreign.

  “We are all born as slaves to the natural world, no different than any other animal. We learn lessons about the natural world as a child and these lessons are the foundation of every woman and man,” he passed a water pouch to Akiiki, who took a deep sip. “However, as we grow, we replace the lessons of nature with our own laws and expectations, which separates us the natural world. Such a separation is necessary for us to live as we do, but too often we forget the most basic laws of nature that serve as the foundation upon which our culture is built, and thus we are disconnected not only from the earth, but from one another as well. All I did was reawaken the senses within you that have laid dormant since you were a small child.”

  “How long was I asleep?” Akiiki asked as his mind slowly settled.

  Obasi smiled. “Always after a healing the mind must rest deeply. Tell me, what do you remember?”

  Akiiki thought for a moment as he tried to recreate the feeling of his dream. But the harder he thought, the harder it became to put the experience into words. “I remember….flying and…” he hesitated with doubt. “a voice”

  “I see. How did you feel?” Obasi probed.

  “I don’t know.” Akiiki said as he searched his thoughts. “I felt….free.”

  “What about this voice? Do you remember what it said?”

  “No, it was some type of song. It sang to me and I sang back with it.”

  “Ah very good!” Obasi exclaimed. “Many people struggle to ever hear the voice of mother nature. Her voice
is always around us, drowned out by the constant hum of our daily lives. Only in true freedom can we listen to her beautiful voice. Now, can you tell me what freedom is?”

  “Freedom is when no one controls you,” Akiiki answered.

  Obasi nodded. “Very true. Do you think you were free at the palace?”

  Without hesitation Akiiki replied, “Of course.”

  “Do not be so sure my Prince. There is no doubt that your body was free, you were not shackled and forced to act against your will the way a slave is forced to labor all day in the hot sun, but you still wore the shackles of expectation. You were born to rule and all you have learned has been taught with that expectation in mind. The responsibilities and expectations you were raised with also mute the calling of your true freedom.”

  “Are you saying I’m not supposed to be king?”

  “Of course not,” Obasi remarked. “It is very possible that you were born to rule, my only point is that there exist two different freedoms. Freedom of the body and freedom of the spirit, and without one the other suffers. The freedom of the spirit comes from hope of a better future, for oneself or family and when the body is forced into servitude against its will, the spirit is burdened by duty. However, someone who is free to choose their lot in life and focuses on only the vices that please their body will never find their spirit completely free, for they will simply choose the grandeur of self-indulgence over the path of nirvana.”

  Obasi’s words flowed over and through Akiiki. Never had a life other than the one laid out before him crossed his thoughts. As he struggled with the idea he looked at Obasi. “I don’t understand, how do you choose which one is more important, freedom of the body or freedom of the spirit?”

  “One is not better than the other. Perhaps the slave, rich in spirit who has lived his or her life in oppression, strives towards a life in which they are free to enjoy the spoils of the physical world, while the child who lives with the privilege of comfort strives instead towards the fulfillment and peace of a simpler life. It is simply the ebb and flow of life, from the luxury of the physical world to the harmony of the spiritual and back again. We are all sailing our ships towards one of two islands of paradise. It takes dedication, hard work, and patience to find both spiritual and physical freedom in this world.”

  Akiiki sat quietly as Obasi continued. “To be truly free one must be allowed not only to choose their own path in life, they must be allowed to follow that path as well. Without these options, a person’s life is influenced by forces outside their control, which makes it much more difficult to find a path through life that leads to fulfillment. This burdens the spirit and leads to frustration and resentment. If someone is lucky enough to choose their path, once they have set their course, they must conquer the fear and doubt that burdens their spirit. If they are able to shed the fear of expectations and the doubt that lives within, their spirit will soar, and they will find the freedom they seek.”

  “What happens if they never find freedom?” Akiiki asked.

  “Many don’t. They resign themselves to the limits of their environment and simply seek to survive. There is no shame in their decision. Because the struggle towards either freedom is so difficult, it is not an undertaking to be taken lightly. But it is in this test of one’s will, that the opportunity for true freedom lies. Some will choose to test themselves some will not, the point is simply to make a choice and accept the results.”

  “So, you are saying I can choose not to be king?”

  “If that is the decision you reach, then yes, it is part your freedom to decide not to rule. But it is important for you to understand that freedom does not mean taking the easy way out. More often than not it involves making the choice to pick struggle over comfort,” Obasi stood up and looked into the sky.

  “That is enough for now. It is almost midday, if we are to reach the palace we cannot remain in one place for long. Do you feel up to walking? The ocean breeze will protect us from the worst of the sun’s heat.”

  They packed up their things and began to walk along the water in the damp sand as the cold water eased the stiffness in their bodies.

  After they had walked for a few minutes, Akiiki turned to Obasi. “That voice in my dream, where did it come from?”

  “That was the voice of nature. Remember, nature sings to us always, it sings to us even now. Our blessings of thought and emotion also curse us by drowning out nature’s beautiful voices. The animals around us are blessed with the song nature sings, and thus follow their instincts through life. Without the ability to listen to nature’s song, we often base our decisions not on instinct, but on how we are taught to react to the world.”

  Akiiki nodded. “My father used to tell me that those who act on instinct are destined for a life of mistakes and trouble.” As the memory of his father welled up inside of him, he felt not only the sharp pain of sadness, but a pride formed of deep memories that soothed his wound. He paused for a moment, reveling in both the bitterness and pleasure of the past.

  “Your father was a wise man,” Obasi said. “However, our instincts are a gift from nature, and to shun them would be to reject a truth we share with all things. Our instincts lead us astray when they are blinded by the smut of our false desires. But instincts controlled by the person seeking his or her true nature becomes intuition, and intuition is our greatest compass on the road to living a fulfilled life.”

  They continued to walk, stopping occasion-ally to take quick dips in the ocean. Akiiki noticed a subtle shift within him, a patch of calm within a vast sea of confusion that gave him a small sense of belonging. He searched for the source of this new feeling, but it escaped him at every turn.

  Once the air cooled with the setting sun, they stopped and walked inland and set up camp. Obasi took out his tools as Akiiki sat in the sand.

  After a few minutes of effort, Obasi glanced up at Akiiki and paused. Without saying a word, he went back into his pack and came out with two pieces of wood and handed them to Akiiki. Akiiki took them in silence and looked at them, before turning his attention back to Obasi.

  “My mother used to say, the one who cannot build their own fire will always find the world a cold and dark place,” Obasi said. “There is more truth in her simple words than most people experience in a lifetime. In my village every child learned the art of making fire, for it teaches the lessons of self-reliance. Here are your tools,” he said, holding his own pieces of wood and small bundle out for Akiiki to see.

  Raising the long thin stick into the air, he continued. “The stick represents action and determination. It is the source of heat that you will use to build your fire. Your fireboard represents purpose,” he said, raising the large flat piece of wood. “No matter how forceful your actions, or how determined you are, without a defined and consistent purpose, you can never truly accomplish your goals,” he pointed to a small bundle of twigs and dried leaves, “The final piece, the nest, represents attention and care. Action and purpose are enough to create smoke, but only by careful attention will a coal sprout to a flame capable of sustaining life. It takes time and patience to master the fine art of making fire, but without these qualities you will never find the inner light necessary to wander down the dark lonely path towards your destiny.”

  Akiiki nodded silently, then watched as Obasi took his own pile of leaves and twigs, placed them in the sand, and laid his fireboard on top.

  “In order to build your fire, you must become one with your tools,” he stepped onto the fireboard with his foot and stuck the drill into one of the many small black holes that dotted the wood. He gestured towards Akiiki who hurriedly started setting up his own tools.

  “Slowly my son,” Obasi said. “You cannot rush any part of the process, for it is time and effort that lead to success.”

  After a calming breath, Akiiki carefully positioned his tools in the sand and stepped on his fireboard.

  “Now watch,” Obasi said as he brought both hands togeth
er at the top of the stick and began to carefully work his way down. Gradually, he moved his hand faster and faster until they were a blur to Akiiki’s eyes.

  “There is a certain rhythm within each of us that directs us towards our fate,” Obasi said with deep heavy breaths. “And there is no better practice than building a fire to teach us to find our own rhythm.”

  Akiiki looked down at his fireboard and placed his hands together on the top of his stick and carefully started to rub them together. As he worked his way down, the stick slipped off the fireboard and into the sand. He placed it back onto the fireboard and tried again, and again the stick slipped off into the sand. A small rush of frustration came over Akiiki and he looked up at Obasi, who cracked a small smile.

  “It is not as easy as it seems. Most never learn to find their rhythm through the clamor of life’s distractions. Do not let frustration and doubt keep you from trying, for they are only fleeting emotions that serve no true purpose.”

  Akiiki took a breath to calm himself and tried again.

  They worked silently for a long time, until Akiiki’s hands and shoulders ached, and he could barely hold the stick without dropping it.

  “Rest my son,” Obasi said without taking his eyes off his work. “No one can hope to find their rhythm in only a few hours, it takes patience. Tomorrow’s progress is always built upon the failures of today.”

  Akiiki dropped his stick and rubbed his hands as he watched Obasi work. Even in the darkness that had rolled over them, Akiiki could see the tension breaking across Obasi’s dark skin. After a few moments of silence, he said. “Grab the bundle of sticks from my bag.”

  The dry sticks cracked under Akiiki’s grip as he pulled them out and placed them in the sand by Obasi’s side. He watched as Obasi took the small bundle of leaves from under the fireboard and raised them to his lips with cupped hands. He blew gently on the nest of twigs and a small flame jumped into the sky. He put the small bundle of flames into the sand and built a small tent of larger sticks around it. Soon the fire was roaring, and heat chased away the chill that had settled into the nights breeze.